Chapter 2
Two
Harper
At every turn, I feel like I’m being watched.
Am I paranoid? Probably, but it’s hard not to be when I’m running away from my wedding and I’m supposed to marry Luca, who is mafia born and bred.
Which is my fault. At least in part.
Luca had disowned his father until I screwed things up and forced him to propose, to keep me and Zeke safe.
I kiss Zeke’s forehead. He’s seated in his car seat, and he’s been restless for the past two hours.
He’s also burning up.
I thought it was from the heat pumping into the bus and his winter coat making him overheated. Now, I’m thinking it might actually be a fever.
His cheeks are rosy, and he’s been crying and fussy for most of the trip. I remove him from his car seat and cuddle him, trying to settle him down.
He’s warm, sweaty, and still fidgety.
I kiss his forehead, and I’m certain he’s running a temperature.
Another ten hours on the bus to Vegas is out of the question.
The driver announces that the next stop is a small town and we’ll be there for half an hour if anyone wants to grab food before we get back on the road.
It gives me a chance to see if there’s a hotel, someplace where we can lie low for a bit.
I bundle Zeke back up into his winter coat and boots. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, not the least bit thrilled, and neither am I.
A couple of patrons on the bus are glaring at me, and I give them an apologetic smile. We won’t survive a drive to Vegas.
At the next stop, I disembark with the backpack over my shoulders, Zeke holding my hand and the car seat in my other hand, filled with our recent purchases from the rest stop, consisting of snacks for Zeke, some baby Tylenol, diapers, and wipes.
It’s blustery outside, the air whipping at me, and Zeke is inconsolable as the cold chill beats at us.
I lift Zeke onto my hip, holding him against me. He buries his face in my jacket as I survey the small town.
There’s a motel not too far in the distance, across the street from the fast-food chain. I head for the motel, opting for a room. At least if I can get Zeke settled and rested, perhaps tomorrow, we can take the next bus.
Although I don’t have my phone to purchase a bus ticket and there appears to be no bus station nearby.
That’s tomorrow’s problem.
Right now, I’m more concerned about Zeke and his apparent fever.
I manage to secure a room, using Kensley’s credit card, and retrieve the key.
Zeke is fussing the entire time. “It’s okay. We’re going to rest soon,” I say.
He’s already missed his afternoon nap. He’s a joy to be around when he follows his routine but add a fever to the mix and all hell breaks loose.
Not that I should be surprised.
Today hasn’t been a typical Saturday for any of us.
After we get settled and I drop off our things, I take him across the street to grab a quick bite to eat. I’m starving, but I’ve been giving Zeke snacks to try to settle him down. I doubt he has an appetite anyhow.
I order a burger and fries and get Zeke a kid’s meal, in hopes that he’ll get some protein in him. Crackers, pretzels, and chips aren’t exactly sustenance.
Zeke sits in my lap while I shred his chicken fingers, making them bite-sized pieces for him to feed himself.
He’s sniffly and tear-stained, but he grabs the chicken with his fist, palming it before shoving it into his mouth.
I’m relieved that he’s quiet for a few minutes, which gives me a few seconds to take a bite of my burger. I’m absolutely famished. I didn’t eat anything for breakfast, and it’s already nearing dinner time.
It’s dark outside, but not quite Zeke’s bedtime. It’s still a little early. He finishes the last bite of his chicken and reaches for my fries.
“You’ve got fruit,” I say, pointing at the cut up fresh fruit bites on the napkin for him to eat.
He wrestles forward, squirming for my French fry.
“Okay.” I relent and rip a tiny bite off, so he doesn’t shove the entire fry into his mouth. He grabs it, and his eyes widen as he tastes the salty delight.
He points to my fries, wanting more.
So much for trying to get him to eat healthy. I kiss his forehead. He’s still warm, but it’s not as raging as it was earlier.
Crying will also make him run a bit warm, and he’s settled down now that he’s eating dinner. While it’s not the best meal, it’s better than snack food.
Sitting by the window, I glance out at the bus, the other patrons climbing back on, getting ready to leave town.
My breath catches in my throat when Luca’s vehicle slowly pulls up in front of the bus, blocking it.
I glance away, hoping that maybe if I don’t look in his direction, he won’t see me inside the window of the restaurant.
But like a train wreck, I can’t look away. My gaze is still on him.
My breath catches when someone is pointing at the hotel and then at the fast-food chain.
His gaze locks on mine, and he looks mighty pissed.
Luca tosses his keys at Ashton and stalks toward us.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Luca is fuming.
Ashton is moving the car, parking in front of the hotel.
Like a hurricane, Luca comes barreling inside, the anger rolling off him like steam on a chilly winter’s day.
The look alone sends shivers down my spine.
It’s frosty.
Bitter.
And reserved solely for me.
It’s nothing to feel grateful about.
“You weren’t supposed to come find me,” I whisper, staring up at him.
Zeke throws his arms up at Luca.
“Dada,” he says, and my heart hurts a million times more, hearing my son call him that.
Luca exhales loudly and tries his damndest to ignore Zeke.
I want to see his resolve crumble and for him to realize I’m not the villain.
“I can’t believe you broke up with me in a letter. One that you didn’t even have the courage to give me!” Luca isn’t the least bit quiet, and the two other guests in the restaurant turn in our direction.
Sighing, I gesture toward the empty seat in the booth across from me.
“I’d prefer to stand,” Luca bites out.
“I was trying to give you your freedom, Luca,” I say, keeping my tone soft, disarming. There’s no reason for me to fight with him.
Zeke squirms, growing restless in my arms, especially now that he sees Luca, and apparently, the kid has had enough of me today.
“My freedom?” Luca laughs darkly, clearly angry and hurting.
I should have realized what the consequences would be. I didn’t intend to hurt him.
“I honestly thought you’d be relieved,” I say, staring up at him.
“You don’t know me at all.” Luca shakes his head, fuming. “I’ve been prepared to throw my future away for you—”
“I didn’t ask you to do that!” My voice raises an octave.
The door to the restaurant swings open, and Ashton slowly comes waltzing in.
“Dada!” Zeke says to Ashton.
Apparently, that’s his new favorite word.
“Can I take him?” Ashton asks me as Zeke’s arms are out, waiting to be held by anyone but me.
My little traitor.
Reluctance ebbs from me.
Ashton is as much mafia as Dante. He wouldn’t have pushed the idea of marrying me if he didn’t follow orders.
But I don’t believe he’d hurt my son.
I’ve seen the way Ashton is with Zeke at home, chasing him around, playing peek-a-boo and tickle monster.
Zeke continues squirming until I relent.
“Yes,” I say and hand him over.
Ashton carries him to the play area of the restaurant, trying to keep him away from the fighting adults.
“You risked everything, even Kensley’s life. You were stupid telling her about the family,” Luca hisses and falls into the seat across from me.
Shit.
I never expected Kensley to tell anyone.
“Is Kensley okay?”
I could never forgive myself if Dante or his men did anything to her.
“When I left, she was locked up in Dante’s basement.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes tight, studying me.
This isn’t what I wanted.
If anyone should be chained up downstairs, it’s me.
This is my doing.
Running away from the wedding.
Leaving Luca.
Divulging mafia secrets.
I’m the one to blame, not Kensley.
“It’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Life isn’t fair. Quite a hard way to learn that lesson,” Luca scolds.
“I had to trust someone.”
He’s glaring at me and then steals one of my fries. “You were supposed to trust me!” He pops the food into his mouth and chews rather aggressively.
“You never would have let me go.”
“Now, you’re catching on!” Luca snaps and shakes his head. He runs his fingers over the table, and I reach for his hand, hoping to draw some sense back into him and calm him down.
He blanches the moment I touch him and pulls away from me.
“Why are you here?” I ask, staring at him.
“Do you think Dante is just going to let you run away? He’s hunting you down. You embarrassed the family. That doesn’t just get swept under the rug.”
I hadn’t considered what my betrayal to the family might mean. I knew Zeke was in my custody and I’d keep him safe. My parents, they could fend for themselves. By not being close with them lately, it would protect them.
“I’ll apologize, but I won’t go back.”
“You will,” he says firmly. “Whether I have to carry you to the car or you walk, we’re going back home.”
“I don’t—” My breath catches and I glance toward the playroom for Zeke.
He’s oblivious to what’s happening, thankfully. Ashton is keeping him busy.
“Run away with me,” I whisper. “We’ll take Zeke, maybe we can even get Ashton to cover for us.”
I won’t leave without my son.
“Ashton would never do that,” Luca says, and he grinds his teeth, his jaw tight as he stares at me.
There’s a coldness he exudes, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Dante won’t let us leave. I’ve told you that, repeatedly. He has men all over the country who will do his bidding.”
“What if we change our names—”
“You’ll never be safe. We’ll never be safe,” he reiterates. “The only safe choice is to marry me.”
I sit back in the booth and exhale heavily.
“Wow, that bad of an option,” Luca says and laughs darkly. “You weren’t saying that when we were fucking the other night.”
I grimace.
He’s angry with me.