Page 4 of They Found Us (Found #5)

Katie

“You learn fast,” I say sarcastically.

“Mi scusi?” Excuse me ?

“English. I heard you speaking to the waiter. I was only trying to thank you earlier. There was no need to be rude.”

She opens her mouth slightly to say something, but I leave before she can.

On our walk home, I’m annoyed with the ignorance of the lady.

I only wanted a friendly bit of conversation.

I miss my friends Bella and Emmaline. I miss my mum.

Although she never had a bright piece of advice to give, I miss our conversations on the soaps or whatever trash we were watching on Netflix that week.

We have a lovely life here, but I miss adult interaction and friendship.

When we arrive home, I try and shift my mindset and be grateful for all that we have and the life that our children will have. But it’s hard not having Leo here.

After dinner I take Mark for our usual evening walk.

Tonight, I have put his harness and reins on, much to his annoyance, but I’m not having a repeat of last night.

I also push the pram on the sand so it wouldn’t get stuck again.

Thank goodness for sand wheels. We walk along the shore, and I let Mark have a paddle in the sea while holding tightly onto his reins.

I love the sea air, the fresh salty oxygen that fills your lungs more than city air does, and the sound of the waves crashing on shore.

I love spending time on the beach, having picnics and making sandcastles for Mark to knock over.

In Italy, I spent a lot of my time on the beach, either with Leo or Emmaline.

The pregnancy, and then Leo leaving, has really brought back memories of our previous life.

I think today is the first time in over three years that I have felt homesick.

When we’re ready to go back home, I put Mark in his pushchair and cover him with a blanket. The evening air is getting much cooler now. As I’m pushing him along and singing softly, I hear fast footsteps approaching us from behind. I turn quickly keeping my stance strong, ready to protect.

Leo

My heart burns at the sight of my wife saying goodbye. Her eyes are filled with emotion and vulnerability. I feel physically sick leaving my whole world alone. I never thought I would have to leave. I’m not sure if I am making the right decision. But I know I couldn’t live with myself if I did not.

When Van called, I knew I was his last hope.

I had the emergency radio phone fitted for absolute catastrophic situations only.

I thought it would never ring. I prayed it would never ring.

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have had it in the first place.

But knowing it was there and not ringing, helped me enjoy my new life without feeling guilty for leaving.

Now I feel gut-wrenching guilt for going back to Italy.

My plan is to sort out the mess as soon as possible while remaining undetected and return in a couple days.

I’m taking a massive risk going back there.

Risking my life and my family’s. I stop myself from thinking about what will happen to them if I am caught.

When the car starts, I don’t look back at my beautiful wife cradling her stomach where our unborn child is growing.

It’s too painful. Instead, I put myself into work mode.

A personality I have suppressed for years.

As I let Van’s words fill my mind, anger builds and adrenaline bursts through my veins.

The Martelé have been recruiting since my departure, accepting any vile Neanderthal that came forward.

They’re out of control. It’s a disgrace to the underworld, even for them.

Marco has lost his head and therefore the respect of Guerra men.

I would have put my life on the fact that Marco could never fall for the opposite sex.

But I shouldn’t have underestimated the power women have.

I’m a prime example of this. And if that woman is ripped from your heart, all sanity is ripped from you along with her.

I’m taken to the airbase and smuggled into a cargo plane.

Then a ship takes me to Italy. It’s a long, uncomfortable journey for which wearing a custom-made €10,000 suit isn’t ideal.

But it’s my armour. It oozes power. Although the few people who see me during my transfer have no idea who I am, the suit speaks volumes, instructing them not to speak a word if they want to live.

When the van I’ve been travelling in opens its doors, I instantly know I’m back in Italy.

The smell of the air tickles my nose, welcoming me back to the country that runs through my veins.

Now the challenge begins. I’m dropped off a mile away from the Guerra house, just on the edge of the grounds.

My task now is to make it to the house without being detected.

Not even by Guerra men. No one must know I am alive.

Katie

My posture soon relaxes when I see who is approaching us. The Italian lady. I wait for her to catch us up.

“Hello. Thank you for waiting,” she says a little breathlessly. “I’m so glad I have seen you again. I wanted to explain and apologise.” Every word is spoken in perfect English with an Italian accent.

“Okay,” I respond, letting her continue.

“My name is Giovanna, but everyone calls me Vanna.” Vanna holds her hand out to introduce herself.

I accept. “I’m Katie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Katie.” She smiles genuinely. “Please accept my apologises for our previous encounters. I prefer to keep myself to myself, but I shouldn’t have been rude.”

“You and everyone else around here. We’ve lived here three years now, and I still don’t know anyone to speak to, apart from passing conversation.” I sigh, homesickness once again filling me.

Vanna smiles sympathetically. “You get used to it eventually.”

“Have you lived here for a long time?”

“Yes, since I was about eighteen.” She sighs.

Looking at Vanna, I’d say she was about my age, in her early to mid-thirties.

“Do you have family here?” I ask, hoping I’m not overstepping.

“It’s just me and my husband.” Vanna replies, still smiling, but I can see sadness behind her eyes.

“Would you like to have a coffee some time? I could do with some adult conversation.” I laugh, gesturing to little Mark asleep in his pushchair.

Vanna takes a moment to reply, and I think she is going to refuse, but then she says, “Yes, I would like that.”

Vanna sounds genuinely pleased with my invitation, which makes me so happy. I arrange to meet her the following day at the café I saw her at earlier that day. “Wonderful, so I’ll see you tomorrow at 1:00 p.m.”

“I look forward to it,” Vanna says as she sets off running down the beach.

I make my way home, feeling a little excited.

Maybe things are looking up. It will be nice to have someone to talk to other than Leo.

I love Leo very much, but a girl needs her friends.

Once I have settled Mark in bed, I make a cup of tea and get myself comfy on the sofa with a blanket.

There’s a new series on Netflix I have been wanting watch.

But as soon as it starts, I get a sharp pain that shoots through my stomach.

Panicking, I clutch my tummy. “Please, no Not yet, my baby. It’s too soon to meet you.”

I feel our little one turn and see what I think is their bottom protrude through the front of my stomach.

I stand to take a look at myself through the full-length mirror on the wall, turning from side to side and lifting my top to see the shape of my bump.

It’s dropped. I smile and rub my tummy excitedly, feeling calmer.

The pains I have been experiencing must be our baby turning and getting ready for their arrival next month.

After watching two episodes, I’m falling asleep, so I take myself off to bed. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

At 5:00 a.m., I am woken by high-pitched screams.

Leo

I move the overgrown shrubs and vines that conceal the underground entrance to the Guerra property. After lifting the steel door and climbing down the first few steps on the ladders, I carefully close myself in, hardly making a sound. It’s pitch-black until I reach the ground beneath me.

Dim lights illuminate my path as I walk through the tunnel.

The stench almost makes me gag, but I focus on the path in front of me, avoiding puddles of shit and dead animals.

It takes me around fifteen minutes to quickly walk the length of the tunnel.

I’m relieved when I see the ladders leading to the opening in the grounds.

It brings me out at a concealed hatch by the swimming pool.

Once I have checked the coast is clear I climb out, brush my suit down, and tighten my tie.

Holding my gun at the ready, I move through the grounds, hiding myself as much as possible behind shrubbery and garden walls.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. I hope I’m not too late.

As I get closer to the house, the ground is covered with bodies of Martelé men.

Kicking their limbs as I pass to check that they are in fact dead, I carefully manoeuvre between the blood and guts staining the once white porcelain footpaths.

As I enter through the back door of the property, I instantly hear the sound of voices.

The kitchen no longer looks like part of a home.

Every surface is covered with weapons and ammunition.

I put my handgun back in its holster at my back and pick up a loaded machine gun.

Following the sound of the voices, I step carefully through to the front of the house.

After checking each room I pass, I reach the room where the commotion is coming from.

Peering through the crack by the hinges in the door, I see Marco and Van tied to chairs to the left. Martelé men stand to the right. I’m furious to see my men being held hostage by Martelé on Guerra soil. I plan my careful retaliation, but then lose my head when I hear the words of the Martelé.