His Hostage(49)
“So, what do you do, Elle?” Becca asks. The swell of her pregnant belly touches the table even though she’s leaning all the way back in her chair. I sure as fuck can’t answer that question. What do I do? I do your brother-in-law. That’s not an appropriate answer. Let's see, so far I’ve quit school, which essentially ended the career I’ve been busting my ass for years at. I don’t have a job, and I’m not sure I’m going to get one. I’ve been painting which I love, and Vince thinks I should sell online. But I’m nowhere near confident in my work to even think about showing it to anyone. Not yet. Maybe someday.
I decide to circumvent the question and change the subject. “Oh my goodness! You look beautiful. Congratulations, you two.” It’s easy to compliment her. She really is radiant with her swollen tummy. “When are you due?” I ask to continue pushing the conversation along.
“Two months.” Dom answers for Becca as he rubs her stomach. The look in his eyes is one of pure devotion. I find myself reaching for Vince’s hand. I wonder if he’ll look at me that way when I’m pregnant with his child. If. If I ever get pregnant with his child. Again, if I could run, maybe I would. I know I’m not pregnant now though. I just got my period before we came out for dinner. For some reason that hurts. Maybe I could justify staying with him if I was carrying his child, but I’m not.
“We’re all so excited for another baby in the family,” Linda says with a smile on her face. “Three grandbabies. I’d love a dozen of them!” Dante rolls his eyes, and Dom snorts.
“You'd better get on Clara and this one then,” Becca points at me, “because after our little girl, I’m getting Dom fixed.” The table roars with laughter, but my face heats with embarrassment and my fingers nervously tighten on Vince’s hand. It’s all too real.
“Damn, Becca, give them the chance to get to know one another before Vince has to knock her up,” Anthony says, and grins at the two of us. I’m trying to relax, but just being around them has my fight or flight instincts on high alert.
Vince wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek. He whispers in my ear, “Relax, sweetheart.” His words instantly calm me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I don’t care if it’s sick. I can keep up this fantasy, whether it’s right or wrong.
The conversation continues as two waiters bring large bowls of chicken alfredo and spaghetti with meatballs to the table. Ah. Family style. Becca licks her lips and reaches for the bowls, but can’t quite get to them with her belly. I stifle a small laugh. It’s pretty adorable watching her struggle. Dom smacks her hands away playfully and dishes out a large helping of both entrees onto her plate.
Tommy and Anthony start talking about bets and making wagers with Dom. Dante cracks a joke, and the entire mood seems to lighten and flow naturally. Laughter and chatter fill the air.
I start to relax into my seat, and think I can actually eat without feeling sick to my stomach with worry. When the tension finally leaves my shoulders, and just as I start to think I can do this, I hear a loud bang. And another and another, as glass shatters and people scream. I feel the air whiz by my head. I hear it over and over--a mix of screams and bangs. It’s surreal.
Vince’s hurls his body in front of me and pushes me out of my chair. I land hard on my back with his body caging me in. I look to my left and see Becca screaming and crying. Dom’s holding and protecting her the same way as Vince is holding me. Tommy and Anthony are screaming at one another, but their voices are muffled. Each of them is down on one knee with their guns extended, propped up on the backs of the chairs for extra support. They’re firing. Some of the bangs and bullets are coming from them.
“Get her out of here! Get them out!” I can barely hear Vince screaming as he lifts up my body. The sound of tires screeching echoes in my ears, and strong arms pull me away from Vince. I find myself running, my heart beating out of control as adrenaline races through my veins. My feet trip on a fallen chair and I land hard on the ground.
Dom doesn’t give me a moment to right myself. Instead, he picks me up, tucking my body under his left arm, and carries me as though I weigh nothing.
“Vince!” I scream out as I see him jumping through the shattered large bay window. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hear me. He’s gone and I’m being carried away.
I look around me behind the restaurant. It’s a small alley. There are dumpsters at the end of it and the other side leads to the busy street. Dom is holding Becca, who’s crying hysterically. No one else is here. I’m alone. I hear him shushing her. I hear the ambulance and the sirens from the police cars.