Married With Malice: An Arranged Marriage Romance

For a split second I’m sure the car exploded.

A blink of an eye later, I’ve reconsidered. There’s an airbag in my face and all of my limbs still seem to be attached.

This doesn’t mean my problems are over. A thick tree trunk has apparently collided with the grill of the rental car.

To be fair, the tree has been there for quite some time. It was just minding its own business when I came skidding off the road, lost control of the vehicle and ruined the day.

Though the towering evergreen is still standing, the car is not as lucky. Once I smack the airbag into a deflated heap, I can see that the car’s front end has crumpled upon impact. The engine now wheezes and sputters, barely running.

As for me, I’ve been better. There’s a band of pain across my chest thanks to the seatbelt and the airbag has left my entire upper body feeling battered. As I touch my head, my fingers go exploring for any injury.

It seems I got off easy. I’m in one piece and there’s no blood and no bumps.

Wincing as I click the seatbelt open, I test out each limb with caution and am relieved to find everything works as it should. I’ve never been in a car accident before, not even a minor fender bender. Leave it to me to suffer my very first auto mishap in a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere but it is what it is. This car is really not well suited to winter mountain travel. No matter how slowly I drove, the wheels slid precariously around every curve.

And there were a lot of curves.

The snow quickly became an even bigger problem. When I left the resort, there were a few cute snowflakes dancing out of the sky. Fifteen minutes later, they were joined by billions of friends, all raining down as thick as a ticker tape parade.

I was probably less than halfway down the mountain before realizing my best option would be to turn back. A little belatedly, I recalled Cale’s comment about how the road up here gets closed during storms. This sure looks like a storm to me.

Still, everything would have been fine. I could have chugged the car back to the resort and then laughed with Luca about how I tried to go shopping in a blizzard.

In my defense, there wasn’t a blizzard when I left. But by the time I pulled over and cut the wheel to turn around, the snow was falling in thick sheets and accumulating with absurd speed. The windshield wipers couldn’t work fast enough. Visibility was pathetic.

I can’t pinpoint exactly how I managed to stray off the main road and onto one of the nature trails we saw on the way up. It was only when I realized the ride had become far too bumpy that I began to question what went wrong.

A second attempt to turn around went even more poorly than the first. The car lurched one way. Then the other. My grip on the wheel became a matter of life or death.

Only the fact that I was traveling at low speed prevented the crash from being much worse. Still, it’s obvious that the car will need to be towed out of here.

Trying to put the car in reverse does nothing. The tires spin and the engine moans.

After unleashing a volley of choice curse words over my own foolishness, I zip my jacket up to my chin, pull the hood over my head, and climb out of the car to evaluate just how bad things really are.

Stepping outside is like falling into an ice bath. I swear the temperature must have plummeted at least thirty degrees since I cheerfully skipped out of the lobby. I really wish I’d brought gloves.

Oh well. Hindsight is a bitch.

Wrapping the scarf around my neck and pushing my jackets sleeves over my bare hands, I walk around to the front of the car to see what I’m dealing with.

The answer is nothing good.

The wreckage looks much worse from this side. The front of the car is still kissing the hapless tree. The rear tire on the driver’s side is stuck in a nest of snow-covered fallen branches. Even if I had a clue about how to extract the vehicle from its present position, I’m not strong enough to pull it off.

Feeling more ridiculous than ever as I return to the warmth of the car, I realize I’ll need to call for help.

Unfortunately, this brings an entirely new challenge. My phone battery is only at three percent. I didn’t bring a phone charger. And just to add a cherry on top of this special experience, not a single call will go through.

First, I try calling Luca. Then I try texting Luca. Then I try calling Sadie. And, just in case an out-of-state call will have better luck, I try calling Daisy.

Unbelievable. Not only have I destroyed the rental car but I’ve wandered into some kind of phone reception wormhole.

And the snow is only getting thicker, falling faster.

A very real tendril of fear snakes up my spine.

I didn’t tell Luca where I was going. He thinks I’m still getting my serenity treatment at the spa. He won’t even think to look for me until I don’t show up for dinner.

By then it will be dark. It will also be cold, even colder than it is now. At the rate the snow is falling, there might be a couple of feet of new accumulation by then, burying the car.

Anyway, I can’t sit here in the car all night. There’s less than half a tank of gas and the engine sounds awful unsure of itself since the tree encounter.

Panic begins to fray my thoughts.

Trying to estimate how far I might be from the resort is useless. When I left, I was distracted and happy. I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have because it never occurred to me that I might end up stuck out here in a broken car during a blizzard.

“Fuck.” I smack the steering wheel with my fist. Shockingly, this accomplishes nothing.

Maybe phone reception is just lacking in this tiny area. If I can get to a place where the trees aren’t quite as dense then I might have a better chance of getting a call to go through. It’s worth a try and I have no better ideas.

I pull the strings of my hood tighter, wrap my scarf more securely, and brace myself for a blast of arctic air.

The temperature has not improved within the last five horror-riddled minutes. Neither has my reception. I hold the phone up above my head and try again and again, walking first one way and then the other while the battery grinds down.

I try to get my bearings, searching for any hint of exactly where I am in the increasingly likely case that I’m stuck setting out for the resort on foot. All I see are tall trees. And snow. And more trees. No matter which direction I turn, the scenery looks exactly the same.

How can this be modern life? It’s more like some pioneer-age bullshit. There are endless apps, digital tools and communication devices at my everyday disposal. Yet here I am alone on a mountain in a blizzard without a clue what to do next.

My phone flickers and dies in the same instant I try to call 911. Then a few minutes of blinding terror ensues when I have trouble finding my way back to the car. The wind is positively shrieking now and a layer of snow has already covered the vehicle.

With my sleeve, I brush all the snow off the hood and the windows. There isn’t much point. The car will just be covered again in a few minutes.

Things improve slightly once I’m back inside. The dashboard navigation screen has been wiped out but at least the heat still works.

It’s too much to hope for that a passing driver will see me. I’m not sure how far off the main road I am and it’s doubtful anyone else is stupid enough to go joyriding right now.

I rub my hands together in front of the vent as it puffs out warm air. Less than an hour has passed since I left but it’s been an adventurous hour.

I wonder what Luca is doing right now.

The pang of yearning I feel at the thought of him is almost crushing. I’d give anything to have him here. Or better yet, to be where he is. Warm and safe. Wherever Luca is, that’s where I want to be.

Instead of fleeing on this fool’s errand, I should have run to find him immediately. What will Luca think when he discovers the keys are missing and I’m gone?

I can’t handle the idea that he might believe for a minute that I’ve left him.

As the warmth returns to my skin, I mull over my options.

They aren’t spectacular.

Night won’t fall for a couple of hours but the snow shows no sign of letting up. I can try and follow the car’s tracks back to the main road and then start walking up to the resort, however I’m unsure how much distance I’ll need to cover. The leather boots I’m wearing aren’t made for trekking through the snow. My jacket is warm, yet not really equipped for stranded-in-a-blizzard conditions.

But the most ominous truth bomb is the fact that my current car shelter won’t last the night. The gas will run out and the heat will go with it.

Years ago I watched a movie about a pair of young siblings who’d gotten lost in the wilderness. With the snow already chest deep and night soon to fall, they remembered how their father had told them to dig a snow fort if they ever found themselves such a predicament. The two of them went right to work, digging out a burrow with their mittened hands, and there in that cozy frozen den they survived the night. The movie ended happily when they were sniffed out by their father’s dog the next morning.

Frankly, I’m not convinced of my ability to dig a snow fort on my own.

And there probably aren’t any rescue dogs around to sniff out my location. I’ll save that idea as a last resort.

A quick search of the rental car produces nothing that would be of any survival value. The only potentially useful items are a pair of green emergency glow sticks found in the glove compartment. They get shoved into my purse for now.

In order to quell the rising dread, I think of Luca. Three months ago I would have laughed myself silly if anyone had told me the man I was being forced to marry might be the one with the power to unlock my heart.

“And now I’m YOUR psycho!”

Laughter snorts through my nose at the memory of the first night of our honeymoon. That boy sure is a piece of work.

And he’s MINE.

No matter how much he makes me want to pull out my hair at times, I wouldn’t give him up for anything.

While I’m trying to calm myself down with steamy daydreams of Luca, something terrible happens. The engine belches, trembles and finally dies. The gas tank isn’t empty but the damage from the accident must have been severe.

Unfortunately, I know as much about cars as I do about marine biology, which is nothing. Looking under the hood will be useless.

The inevitable moment of decision has arrived.

Within minutes, the car becomes uncomfortably cold. The prospect of slowly freezing to death while entombed in a Toyota isn’t especially appealing.

How far away from the resort could I possibly be?

If I can find my way back to the main road, I’m confident that as long as I keep moving up the incline, I’ll reach the main building. And if I’m going to leave then I ought to leave now. Every minute that ticks by brings nightfall closer. I don’t even want to think about the possibility of roaming around out here in the frigid pitch dark.

It’s hard enough to see as it is. The tall trees make everything shadowy and falling snow obscures the view. I try to follow the furrow of tire tracks in the snow but every time I think I’m moving in the right direction I get pummeled by a fresh gust of wind and lose my way.

Time is in a suspended state as I trudge forward. I might have left the car three minutes ago or thirty. If anyone ever wants to know how it feels to be inside a snow globe, I think I can give a pretty accurate description. Sometimes I look up and can’t see the sky at all. There’s only snow. The effect is dizzying.

A general weariness is beginning to set in. My legs ache, I can hardly feel my feet and my lungs are being punished by the freezing air and the altitude.

Typically, I stay in good athletic shape. After all, nobody wants to take skating lessons from someone who gets winded after one lap around the rink. But I’ve abandoned workouts for the last couple of months and right now I’m really suffering the results of that neglect.

I must be near the road.

It’s inconceivable that it could be much farther. With every step I expect to land on hard asphalt and with every step I’m disappointed in the uneven, unpaved ground that has no end.

The desperate fears I’ve been trying to squash start creeping into my mind.

If I don’t make it off this cursed mountain, what happens to my sisters?

Daisy and Sabrina will be heartbroken beyond belief. Worse, there won’t be anyone to protect them from whatever schemes are cooked up by our father. Mama might try but she’s never known how to stand up to him.

Without me, my sweet girls will be at Albie Barone’s mercy.

Just the thought of my father makes my legs pump faster out of sheer spiteful hatred.

When my father’s plans go haywire, he wastes no time making new ones. The only reason he’d mourn the loss of his middle daughter is because it would mean lost opportunities. He’d quickly pivot to finding new ways to capitalize.

He might force Sabrina into marriage. It’s possible he’ll make Big Man Bowie disappear.

And what about Luca? What would happen to him?

The truth of Luca’s fate hits me with such vicious certainty that I nearly collapse into the snow.

Luca will be destroyed. He’ll blame himself. He’ll descend further into the midnight abyss that’s been slowly swallowing him since the day he became Richie Amato’s apprentice.

These past few months I’ve been so preoccupied with my own feelings and my own heartache. Luca might be far more trapped, forced to do the violent bidding of awful men. This isn’t his nature. He loses little pieces of himself every day. I’ve watched it happen.

Luca is already sinking. Now he’ll believe that I ran away from him. The weight of that tragic burden will crush him for good.

If Luca loses me like this, he won’t recover, not ever.

This is a desolate moment to arrive at such an epiphany, as I’m lost in a blizzard with frigid wind battering me from every direction as my limbs slowly grow numb.

My toe kicks a snow-covered object and I stumble, unable to keep from face planting in the snow. Pain explodes in my left wrist when my palm hits a hard obstacle, likely an obscured tree branch. This makes me oddly furious.

FUCK THIS SNOW AND FUCK THIS BLIZZARD!

I’m getting out of here.

I’m going to keep my sisters safe.

I’m going to help my husband free himself from the clutches this malignant mafia cycle before it eats him alive.

With a new fire of determination warming my chilled blood, I scramble to my feet. Everywhere I look there’s a forbidding wall of white death. Tiny ice bullets sting my eyelids. I still have no idea where I am or how far I’ll need to walk. The best I can do is pick a direction and go with it.

I take a step straight ahead, then change my mind and veer sharply to the right. I can’t explain why but I’m going with the instinct. Each step is more resolute than the last. A marching cadence begins ticking in my head. One step for each syllable of his name, over and over, to bring me closer to him.

LU-CA. LU-CA. LU-CA.

The internal mantra drowns out the wind. I’m so intent on moving forward that at first I think I’m imagining the new sound.

“ANNNNNEEEEE!”

I stop breathing, not daring to hope.

He screams my name again in panicked desperation. Then again.

Do people hallucinate when they’re freezing to death? I don’t know. Faith tells me to lurch doggedly forward anyway.

Remembering the glow sticks in my purse, I haul one out, tear it open with my teeth and crack it in my stiff hands until the neon green light is blazing.

Frantically waving the stick back and forth, I scream for all I’m worth. “LUCA!”

A dark shadow bounds this way and turns into his shape.

I’m terrified he isn’t real. But if he’s an illusion then he’s the best one I could have hoped for. And he barrels this way with astonishing speed.

I’m lifted into his arms before I have time for another thought. My stiff arms circle him and my legs try to wrap around his waist. This isn’t easy with all the bulk of winter clothes and the fact that I’m half frozen.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he says. “Thank God. My Anni.”

He pulls back and kisses my cheeks, my lips. I want to cry with relief but somehow the tears are stuck. He peers into my eyes and becomes alarmed by whatever he sees.

Luca unwinds a colorful scarf from around his neck and wraps it securely around mine. He pulls a pair of thick gloves off and rolls them on over my bare hands. I don’t want him to do that. He needs to keep warm. But before I can object, he lifts me up and cradles me to his chest.

“Everything will be all right, sweetheart,” he says. “Just don’t go to sleep, you hear me?”

Speaking is difficult but I manage to nod.

“Good girl.” He kisses my forehead. “Stay awake.”

We start to move and I nestle my head in the hollow under his neck. I have faith that he has a better sense of direction than me. I believe in him. I’ll always believe in him.

Luca walks with swift confidence and less than a minute passes before he starts shouting.

“GENTRY! OVER HERE! I’VE GOT HER!”

There’s a commotion of men’s voices. The sound of crunching footsteps. A hand gives my shoulder a fatherly pat.

A deep male voice says, “No time. We need to get her indoors and get her warm.”

As I cling to Luca, I’m aware of being lifted into a vehicle. An engine burps to life and the acrid smell of gasoline tickles my nose. It’s a tight fit as we all squeeze inside and I nestle closer to Luca when we begin moving.

His arms are still securely wrapped around me and I hear him tell the driver to hurry. By now I’ve realized the other three men are the Gentry brothers. I’m sure I’ll be mortified later that they all needed to conduct a search party on my behalf but for now I’m just grateful to them, and even more grateful that Luca wasn’t alone.

A radio crackles and one of the men speaks into a receiver. There’s a smile in his voice as he broadcasts that all is well and I’ve been found.

Luca’s breath is a shudder of emotion and he kisses the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, Anni,” he says. “It’s my fault you’re out here and I’ll never forgive myself.”

No, I can’t let him think that. It’s not true.

But my body shakes with cold and my teeth chatter too much to speak.

“Hang in there, young lady,” says one of the Gentry men. “You’ll be okay now.”

Within minutes, the vehicle skids to a halt and there are voices everywhere as Luca carries me into the lobby. I don’t want to be separated from him, not even for an instant, but I’m carried into one of the suites and set down on the bed. Immediately soft, maternal hands are unwrapping the scarves from my face and helping peel off my coat.

One of the Gentry women, the one with the musical southern accent, orders Luca to go change out of his wet clothes while they get me warmed up.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.” He kisses my lips and I get a quick look at his face, glimpsing all the relief and heartache and remorse.

I want to cry out for him but he’s already gone.

My boots are pulled off and warm blankets are wrapped around me. The word ‘hypothermia’ is spoken more than once. A woman with a deeply lined tan face appears and introduces herself as Dr. Alice Murphy. She listens to my chest with a stethoscope.

With a nod of satisfaction, she withdraws the stethoscope and examines my hands and feet while asking me questions. A hot mug of tea is placed in my hands and the chattering of my teeth begins to slow down.

“Will I live?” I ask the doctor.

She smiles. “I’ve been retired for a few years but I’d say yes. You’re lucky. I don’t see any signs of frostbite and your vitals are excellent. Other than a slightly sprained wrist and some bruises from the crash, you don’t appear to have any injuries. Now drink the hot tea and then let’s get you into a tub of warm water.”

I’m embarrassed to be the center of so much attention and yet it’s nice to feel multiple pairs of caring female hands helping me remove my clothes and climb into the bathtub. The water is pure bliss. Not only does it rapidly warm my blood but all the knotted tension in my sore muscles unravels.

“Feeling better, hon?” asks the pretty brunette who must be the wife of the Gentry brother with all the tattoos. She crouches by the side of the tub and smooths my hair back the way a mother would.

A few moments later, Dr. Murphy listens to my heart, checks my temperature and announces that my body temperature is back to normal. I’m helped out of the water, wrapped in a fluffy robe and led back to the bedroom where I’m urged to sit down.

“Where’s Luca?” I ask.

“I’m right here.” He pokes his head into the doorway. He’s changed his clothes and now wears a comfortable hoodie and jeans but the anxiety in his face is troubling. This needs to be fixed before another minute goes by.

I reach out for him and he comes instantly. The women all discreetly back out of the room to allow us a moment of privacy.

Luca kneels at my feet and keeps his head down. “Anni, I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.”

“No, don’t.” I wrap my arms around him. “I wasn’t running from you, Luca.”

My husband raises his head and peers at my face. His eyes have so many moods. They are capable of making me feel every emotion.

“I wasn’t running from you,” I repeat. “And I won’t leave you. I swear I won’t leave you.”

His face crumples and his head drops into my lap. His strong, protective arms lock around my waist.

“Anni,” he sobs while I gently stroke his head and soothe him with a kiss.