CHOOSE
907 Words
The safe house was smelling like milkweed and gun oil and something sour I didn’t want to name.
One room. One cot with thin sheets. One metal table. One door.
No windows. No signal. No way out except the way we came in.
Matteo hadn’t sat down in 6 hours.
He was at the table, breaking down the same pistol and putting it back together. Over and over.
Click. Slide. Click.
Like if he stopped moving, the walls would close in.
I was on the cot, knees to my chest, watching him.
My scrubs were dirty. Hair in a messy bun. No makeup.
I looked like what I was: a hostage.
"You should sleep," he said without looking up.
"I can’t."
"Try."
"I tried. For 48 hours at the hospital. Didn’t work then either."
He finally looked at me. Eyes bloodshot. Jaw tight.
"You’re not safe here."
"Where am I safe?" The words came out sharper than I meant. "You bought a hospital and they still got in. You put guards on me and they still texted me. Where is safe, Matteo?"
Silence.
He went back to the gun.
My phone was in his pocket.
Rule 6.
But his phone buzzed on the table. Face down.
He flipped it.
Unknown:
_She’s not alone. Look at the camera in the corner._
Matteo’s head snapped up.
Slow. Like he didn’t want to believe it.
Then his eyes found it.
Ceiling corner. Blinking red light.
Tiny. Black.
He hadn’t put it there.
"Fuck."
He crossed the room in 2 steps. Raised the gun. Fired once.
Glass and plastic rained down on the cot.
Dust in the air.
"They’re watching us," I whispered.
"They were." He turned to me. His face was blank again. That dangerous blank. "Pack. We’re moving."
"I don’t have anything to pack."
"Then let’s go."
Before I could stand, footsteps.
Above us. On the wooden stairs.
Slow. Deliberate.
Not running. Not hiding.
Matteo grabbed my wrist. Pulled me behind him.
Gun raised. Body between me and the door.
"Don’t make a sound," he murmured. His breath was warm against my ear.
3 knocks.
Then a voice. Female. Familiar.
"Matteo. Open up. It’s me."
Camila.
He didn’t lower the gun.
"How did you find us?"
There was a pause. Then the door handle jiggled. Locked.
"Victor told me." Her voice cracked on the second word. "He has my brother, Matteo. He said if I didn’t come here and deliver a message, he’d—"
"Stop." Matteo’s jaw ticked. "What’s the message?"
Silence.
I could hear my own heartbeat.
Then:
"He said to tell you: Choose."
My blood went cold.
"Choose what?" Matteo asked. His voice was flat.
"The girl," Camila said through the door. "Or your family. You have until I count to 10."
Matteo’s phone buzzed again.
Unknown:
_10...9...8..._
He looked at me.
Really looked.
Like he was trying to memorize every line of my face in case this was the last time.
I shook my head. "Don’t—"
He cut me off.
Then he did something I didn’t expect.
He handed me the gun.
"Hold this."
It was heavy. Metal. Cold.
My hands were shaking so bad I thought I’d drop it.
He stepped toward the door.
Unlocked it.
Opened it.
Cold air hit my face.
3 men. Black suits. Guns already drawn.
And behind them, leaning against the railing like he owned the place, Victor DeLuca.
Victor was older. Gray at the temples. Suit tailored. Smile wrong.
"Romano." He spread his arms. "You got the message?"
Matteo didn’t answer.
Victor looked past him. Saw me.
"Ah. The nurse." His smile widened. "Pretty. I see why you’re keeping her."
He turned back to Matteo.
"Last chance. Give us the girl. Or we take your sister’s son too. He’s 9, right? Cute kid. Be a shame."
Something in Matteo’s face moved. Just for a second.
Then it was gone.
His hand moved.
Behind his back.
Toward me.
I felt something cold pressed into my palm.
A key.
Small. Silver. Old.
"Choose," Victor said again. Louder.
Matteo stepped forward.
Between me and Victor.
Blocked me completely.
His shoulders were tense. Like he was holding something back.
His voice dropped. Only for me.
"When I say run, you run. Use the key. Basement exit behind the cot. Don’t look back. Don’t stop."
Then louder, for Victor:
"I choose—"
Gunfire.
From upstairs.
Loud. Multiple shots.
Everyone dropped.
Matteo grabbed my arm. Yanked me down.
"RUN."
I ran.
Key clutched in my hand so hard it cut my palm.
Behind me I heard Victor yell: "GET HER! DON’T LET HER OUT!"
More gunfire.
Matteo’s voice: "Stay down, Camila!"
I hit the back wall.
There. A metal door. Old. Rusted.
The basement exit.
The key.
It fit.
I turned it. Click.
The door opened to darkness.
Stairs going down. Smell of dirt and rot.
And a voice I didn’t recognize. Male. Calm.
"Welcome, Mrs. Romano. We’ve been waiting."
I froze.
Footsteps above me. Running.
"GET HER!" Victor again.
The voice from the dark said, "Come in. Before they find you."
I had 2 seconds.
Stay here and face Victor.
Or go down into the dark with a stranger who knew my name.
My hand tightened on the key.
On the gun I was still holding.
I stepped down.
The door closed behind me.
And the last thing I heard before the dark swallowed me was Matteo shouting my name.
- Writer
