Page 14 of Die for You

The men soon realize I’m serious and quickly scatter, no doubt to discuss whether I’m a suitable leader or not. But I don’t care what they think.

“Donkey.”

He walks toward me apprehensively and waits for me to speak.

“Congratulations, you now work directly with me.”

It seems he’s taken lesson two on board as he doesn’t ask any questions.

“You’re going to gather the names, addresses, and information on all these men. Think you can do that?”

He nods.

With that, Bria and I walk back to the car since there’s nothing more to say.

ONE MONTH LATER

It’s amazing how quickly I’ve fallen into a routine.

I wake at dawn.

Go for a run.

Eat.

Train.

Sleep.

And repeat.

I’ve not ventured past the property line because I don’t feel the need to explore, and that’s because I’m happy.

Once a week, a box of groceries sits at my door.

I have everything I need.

A part of me does wonder, however, when Gianna will call on me because I sense this silence isn’t forever. Knowing Gianna, this is one of her tests.

So I simply wait for instructions.

She has conditioned me to think this way, which, being away from her, I now see is wrong. But I don’t know any different. And I have nowhere else to go.

I’ve run for miles and am completely famished.

As I walk toward my home and the familiar feel of gravel beneath my sneakers crunches in time with my steps, I realize that for weeks, I’ve not heard my father’s voice. The silence has been welcomed. Out here, there is nothing but me.

And the longer I stay, the more it feels like home.

I see the wooden box of groceries at my door like every Monday past. I wonder what produce Gianna has organized for me.

Picking up the box, I take it inside and set it on the kitchen counter. I remove the perishable items and place them in the fridge. I hum along to the Italian music playing softly from an old radio I found. I never switch it off because the noise gives me comfort, perhaps tricking myself into thinking I’m not alone.

And just like that, I’m not.

“Ciao.” Nico knocks on the back door. He waits for me to invite him in, seeing as the last time he turned up unannounced, I throat punched him.

I stand with a bunch of carrots in my hand, staring at him. “Hi,” I finally say.