Page 3 of They Found Us (Found #5)

Katie

“No. Absolutely not, Leo. You can’t be serious?”

“I have no choice. Marco needs me.” Leo doesn’t look at me when he speaks.

“You do have a choice. We need you, Leo. We left that world behind, and for good reason.”

Leo walks around me and goes into the kitchen. I follow him, wincing as I go as the pains in my stomach return.

“Tell me what is going on. Tell me what is so important that you would take your family back to Italy, a place we had to fake our own deaths to escape from.”

Leo turns to face me. His expression is stern. “I’m going alone. You will stay here.”

“No, you are not leaving us. If you are going, so are we.” I look at Mark, who has fallen asleep in his chair. “I’ll pack us some things. How long do you think we will gone?” I go to the cupboard and get out Mark’s lunch bag and start filling it with snacks and drinks for the journey.

“Stop!” Leo demands, making me jump.

I look at Mark, but he is still sound asleep.

“I am going alone. It is not safe for you and Mark. You will do as I say, Kat-er-een !”

The way he says my name send shivers down my spine. Leo has not called me by my full name like this since we arrived on the island. Well, apart from when he throws me on the bed dominantly during our lovemaking sessions. But this is different. This is the old Leo. The Leo I chose to forget.

“Leo, you are scaring me.” I bow my head in sadness. This is my worst nightmare come true.

Leo walks towards me and takes my hands in his.

“I’m sorry.” He tilts my chin up to look into my eyes.

“Please, Katie. You need to trust me. I’m going to go back and help Marco.

I’ll be gone two, three days maximum. Nobody will even know I’m there.

I will do what needs to be done, and then I will come home, and we will continue our happily ever after.

” He cups my cheeks and kisses me softly.

“Promesso.” I promise . He wipes my tears that have fallen with his thumbs.

I feel sick. I know this is not going to be as simple as he thinks. But I know there’s no point arguing. When this Leo—the leader of the Guerra, Leo—puts his foot down, there’s nothing I can do. And it is safer for me and Mark to stay here. I just wish he didn’t have to go.

“When do you go?” I say, accepting defeat.

“There’s a car coming in ten minutes.” He pulls me into his arms as a sob leaves my chest. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The next ten minutes pass extremely quickly. The thought of being without him breaks my heart.

“It’s time to go,” Leo says as he kisses our son. “Ti amo.” I love you.

The sight of Leo saying goodbye to our sleeping son has tears once again rolling down my cheeks. Bloody pregnancy hormones. I’m not usually such an emotional wreck.

“I will ring you on the red phone every day at 9:00 a.m.,” he instructs as he once again wipes the tears from my face.

“How will I contact you?”

“You won’t. It’s the safest way. I don’t want anything to lead back here to you.” After rubbing my tummy and giving me a kiss I never want to end, he leaves the safety of our home without looking back.

This can’t be happening. It’s all happened too fast. It feels like a bad decision. I should have fought harder to make him stay.

As I close the door, I hear Mark starting to stir, so I wipe my eyes, take a deep breath, and switch into mummy mode.

I carefully lift Mark from his pushchair, singing lullabies to soothe him.

I carry him upstairs into his bedroom and gently change him into his pyjamas.

Once he is settled, I go into mine and Leo’s room and climb into bed.

Wrapping our covers around me, I let myself cry while inhaling the smell left by my husband.

My mind runs wild. What if something happens to him?

What if he never comes home? What if something happens to Mark, and I need him?

How will I get hold of him? The what-if’s continue as I wail into my pillow until I eventually fall asleep.

A few hours have passed by when I am woken by a sound.

My eyes spring open, and I’m on high alert as I listen for the noise again.

The room is now in complete darkness. It must be well into the early hours of the next morning.

A moment or two passes before I hear it again.

It’s a rattle or tapping sound. I start to panic.

What if Leo has been caught already, and someone is here to get me and Mark?

Mark.

The thought of my son puts me in fight mode.

I’m out of bed and in Mark’s bedroom before I can think.

His room has a nightlight, so I can easily see he is safely sleeping in his bed.

I hear the noise again. It’s coming from downstairs.

Quietly I close his bedroom door and tiptoe down.

There it is again. It’s coming from the kitchen.

I stop on the bottom stair and quickly plan my next move.

Generally I’m fit and strong. Leo taught me self-defence years ago when we first moved here, and I can take Leo down without a problem.

But I’m currently eight months pregnant.

I know what I have to do. I sneak into Leo’s office and open his safe.

Thank goodness. I thought he might have taken it with him.

My adrenaline kicks in as I hold the cold steel in my hand.

I check the chamber and find it loaded. Taking the safety off, I make my way out of the office, keeping my back to the wall with both hands on the gun out in front of me like Leo taught me.

As I approach the kitchen, I hear the noise again.

I then see shadows across the back door.

Taking a deep breath, I enter the kitchen and search each corner as I make my way closer to the door.

The moonlight shines in through our open blinds.

The kitchen is empty. The noise again has me spinning in the direction of the door.

Through the window, I see the shadow of tree branches.

I then hear the sound of the wind whistling through our vineyard.

Peering out of the window, I see one of the olives trees has fallen by the door.

Its pot is broken, and the branches tap on the door as the wind picks up again.

My heart starts to calm as I check the door is indeed locked.

Just to be sure, I switch on the lights in each room and check there is no one else here.

All clear. After I have carefully returned the gun to the safe, I sit down at the kitchen table with a glass of water.

I could murder a gin and tonic right now.

The sound of Mark stirring upstairs brings me out of my thoughts.

I turn everything off and double-check the doors are locked before I go to Mark, who wants a sleepy cuddle from his mummy.

Feeling like I also need some comfort, I take him into our room and settle us both in bed.

Mark is soon fast asleep again in my arms. I, on the other hand, am wide awake.

Since arriving here three years ago, I have never felt anything other than safe.

But now I feel incredibly vulnerable and scared.

Even back in Italy, where I always knew I was in some sort of danger just through being with Leo, I never felt this fearful. Leo can’t come home soon enough.

When Mark wakes up at 6:30 a.m., I’m still awake.

We get up and start our usual routine. Breakfast for both of us, and then we get dressed and go out to feed the animals.

There’s a little more to do this morning after last night’s winds.

Thankfully the animals are okay. The weather today, however, is back to the usual calm, blue skies and sunshine.

At 8:55, I go back inside and wait for the phone to ring.

Five minutes is a long time when you are waiting for something.

At 9:00 a.m. on the dot, the phone rings.

“Leo?” I ask, longing to hear his voice.

“Katie. How are you? How is Mark?”

“We are both fine. How are you? What’s going on there? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe. I only have a minute. Please do not worry, la mia ragazza.” My girl. You are safe there. I will be home soon. Take care. I will ring you tomorrow morning at 9:00. Make sure you answer.”

“I will be waiting for your call.”

“Ti amo.” I love you.

“Ti amo,” I reply as he ends the call.

Holding back the tears, I take Mark outside again.

We spend a few hours clearing the broken pots and fallen branches as well as cleaning outing the chickens and goats.

Mark loves our two billy goats, Upsy and Daisy, named after his favourite TV show at the time.

He loves the outdoors. I can’t wait for him to have a little brother or sister to play with.

When we go inside for lunch, Mark makes his usual mess with half of his food on the floor.

Once he has finished, I put him down for his nap.

While he is sleeping, I clear up and get the goat’s cheese and eggs packed up and ready to take to the market.

We take our produce and exchange it for other homemade goodies once a week.

I enjoy the social side of it. Although we have been here for a few years, we haven’t made any friends as such.

We know many people on the island, but only to talk to.

I don’t know anything about anyone even though I see them every week.

Then again, I don’t suppose they know anything about us.

Leo is very untrusting of everyone. I know he misses Marco.

He was like brother to him after his only brother Alex died.

Marco and Leo did everything together. Leo never speaks of him—or anything from our past lives, actually.

But I know he thinks about him a lot. That’s why I shouldn’t be surprised he went to Marco’s aid the minute he got the call.

When Mark wakes, I strap him into his pushchair. I don’t want a repeat of last night. Mark is so much better behaved for Leo, especially now that I’m pregnant. He knows I’m not as fast and agile as I usually am. Little monkey.

The market is busy as usual. We go to the goods exchange stalls first, where I place our produce down and then let Mark choose some baked goods in return.

We usually exchange for something sweet that Mark can enjoy, which keeps him occupied while we browse the items that are for sale.

It feels very strange being here without Leo.

Once Mark has chosen and he is happily eating one of his chocolate brownies, I pick some of our favourite fresh breads.

Then we mix into the hustle and bustle to see if there is anything that takes my fancy.

The baby stall catches my attention first. It’s full of beautiful tiny handmade clothes and soft toys.

Mark spots a blue crochet teddy bear he likes, so I have that, a blanket, and a knitted cardigan for the new baby bagged up and pay for them.

At the next stall, I spot someone I recognise.

It’s the running lady from the beach that caught Mark.

“Hello, again,” I say as I approach her. “I didn’t get chance to thank you properly last night.”

“Mi dispiace di non parlare inglese.” I’m sorry, I don’t speak English. She smiles and then turns to walk away.

“Va bene, parlo italiano.” That’s okay, I speak Italian.

The lady stops in her tracks and slowly turns back to look at me. Her expression is surprised and quizzical. “Non sembri italiana.” You don’t look Italian .

Her response makes me laugh. “Non sono.” I’m not . I reply.

The lady gives me another smile, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Devo andare. Piacere di rivederti.” I need to go. Nice to see you again. And then she goes, leaving me with many questions.

We stop for a coffee halfway around the market.

Well, I have a coffee. Mark has a milkshake along with a fruit snack I packed.

I’m sat at our table with my back to the entrance of the café.

In the reflection of the fridge door, I can see anyone who enters.

It’s a cautious action Leo has drummed into me that has become natural now.

Ensure that whenever we are in a resting position, we can see anyone approaching from behind.

Always have eyes on the entrances and exits.

Know how many people are in the immediate vicinity—six: two couples and two people sitting alone.

Four females, two males. Stay alert without making it obvious that you are paying attention.

While chatting to Mark about his new soft toy, I notice a lady enter the café.

She is greeted by one of the waiters, who shows her to a table.

The first table in the middle of the café, she refuses.

The next, one in a corner, she accepts. It’s the Italian lady again.

She speaks to the waiter for a few moments about the weather.

He then asks what she would like to order, and they discuss the menu.

In English. Fluent English. I thought it surprising that she didn’t speak English well enough to speak to me.

Although most of the people who live here aren’t originally from the UK, it’s the main language that everyone uses to communicate.

I thought maybe she had just arrived. But no.

It seems she just didn’t want to talk to me.

Once Mark and I have finished our refreshments, we make our way out of the café, purposely walking past the Italian lady. She looks in our direction as I approach.