Contarini

She peeked out the net curtains looking for any strange cars or anyone loitering. The street was deserted. She let out a small relieved sigh. She had moved every week for the last two months. Using cash for F1s and other under thirty euro a night motels.

This was her first apartment, she would stay here a month; hopefully. She moved around the dingy one-roomed place she would, for now, call home, wondering where the good hiding places were. She always separated her cash and IDs, just in case one hiding place was found.

She looked up to the suspended ceiling panels. She dragged a chair over and tried a few, they all moved, as she suspected. She took one of the tiles down. Duct taping the sandwich bag with a third of her cash and two of her fake identities within.

She found two other suitable hiding places; the air vent, and a cracked wall tile behind the toilet that had a hole behind it. She looked around to the duffel bag she’d dumped on the bare mattress, she didn’t ever unpack, it was always better to be able to make a swift exit if needed.

She sank into the uncomfortable hard sofa, her hand running through her too long golden brown hair, her fingers catching on a few tangles, she winced. She picked up the driver’s license looking at the name, “Guten tag, ich bin Claudia Wagner,” she practised. She shook her head and tried again, she kept going until the name sounded convincingly German.

She was already tired of running but she knew she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t be part of that world; his world. She didn’t belong there and her attempt to fake her death hadn’t worked; one of Enzo’s men found her in Prague, she was lucky to get away. From there she’d dyed her hair and found a contact who did ‘real’ fake IDs; passports, drivers licenses and birth certificates. It had set her back a small fortune but it was worth it, so far she’d not caught a glimpse of Enzo, his men, or his family. So she’d decided to find somewhere to live, for now.

She opened the duffel bag, seeing the one personal item she owned on top. She picked it up, hugging the tiger to her body. She didn’t want to admit it, but she missed him. He had turned her world upside down, he had agreed to her father’s death. He had lied about who he really was. He had forced her into his world just by meeting her, but she still missed him.

She sank onto the lumpy mattress burying her nose into the soft tiger head. She hadn’t had proper human contact in months, she hadn’t hugged anybody, spoken more than hello. The most physical contact she had was when she shook her new landlord’s hand.

She hated her new life, she wondered how her mum and dad had managed it… but then she thought at least they had each other; she had no one. She shifted the duffel back over so she could lay down. Staring up at the ceiling tiles, her eyes filling with tears she didn’t want to shed. There was no point feeling sorry for herself, there was no point in being upset. Her situation was what it was and she just had to cope.

But she couldn’t cope.

She turned on her side shifting back so the duffle bag was against her back, just trying to pretend there was someone there. The tiger still clutched in her hands as she allowed her tears to run into the mattress. She didn’t want to think what was already on it. She stifled her sobs against the orange and black fur. Despair and loneliness gripped her stomach and chest, her tears continued to fall, a wet patch steadily growing on the mattress.

Just over two months ago she had been in a loving relationship with a man she thought was all sunshine and roses. She’d been laughing with her dad planning a BBQ in the summer.

She’d been doing her normal routine, work, going home to her tall, dark and handsome Italian and then Friday night drinking a bit too much with the men who looked after her through thick and thin. The guys that had been there to pick up the pieces.

She wished everything was just back to normal; when she went to work and came home to find her dad buried in his designs, or sitting watching TV. She missed Friday nights at The Crown, her dad’s friends idly chatting about anything and everything. She missed Grayson, his piercing blue eyes watching over his customers. Listening to problems, and giving advice which was always good advice. Although she doubted he would know what to do with her situation.

But more than all of that, just over two months ago she believed she had a normal identity. A normal English girl with mostly a normal English life. She’d accepted her mum had run off, probably into the arms of another man. She’d had a normal identity, a name she’d had all her life…

She hadn’t uttered her real name in months, she was worried anyone would hear her, she was scared to even think the name… not that it was legally ever her name, she’d found that out pretty quickly. She wondered how her dad had done it… apart from the name she chose at sixteen - Aliza Summerton. Everyone had always referred to her as Alissandra Sutton… school, clubs; everyone. But that name didn’t exist, she had never really had that name. And she couldn’t even ask anyone… she couldn’t have contact with her old life for fear of being found, her dad was dead, her mum was dead. She had no one.

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She was coming out of the apartment the day after she moved in, she needed at least bedding. She walked backwards a little looking around the door for anything new when she banged into something. She stumbled, looking around to see a blonde-haired man who had caught her elbow to stop her falling. “Sorry!” she exclaimed, a tinge to her cheeks in embarrassment.

“That’s all right.” His blue eyes twinkled, she straightened, clutching her bag. “I’m Noah. Have you just moved in?” his German was of course flawless as he was obviously a native. She had to concentrate hard to understand him.

“Er…” the words clicked in her head. “Yes, move in.”

“English?” he asked in English.

She sighed, she’d hoped her practice had worked, “Yes… erm… learn German,” she said in her limited German.

He smiled and nodded knowingly. “I can help?” He gave her a toothy grin.

“Er… thank you… er… I go.” She pulled her elbow that was still in his grasp and ran past him.

A few hours later, she stumbled up the stairs with a few too many bags, she’d got a little over-excited at the shops, after all, she hadn’t bought anything but food in two months. Her shopping expedition had hailed a few cooking utensils, a few clothes and decorations for the apartment. The bedding was bulky in the plastic bag and she kept catching on the stairs. She panted as she got to the second stairwell. She huffed but this was the last set of steps.

“Need help?” a voice came from behind her, she looked back to see the blonde who she’d crashed into earlier in the day. She looked up the stairs and back down to him. She nodded, “Dankeschön,” she breathed as she handed him the bag with the bedding that was causing her the most issues. She walked up the stairs, her other bags were still heavy but at least she wasn’t catching on everything now.

They got to her door and she took her precautionary look around before putting in her key. Noah brought in the bag of bedding he was carrying, looking around the stark room.

“I… give you coffee… but no have.”

He smiled, repeating the sentence correctly. Which she copied.

“Thank you… I need help,” she admitted.

“I have coffee, I’ll give you your first lesson,” Noah expertly switched to English.

“Deutsch bitte,” she responded.

Noah nodded, “Come.” He opened her door gesturing for her to leave, she looked around, unsure. “Maybe next time.” He smiled kindly leaving and closing the door behind him.

She felt bad, he had helped her and not been angry for her to bump into him, and she probably hurt him as she was certain she had trod on his foot. She sighed but decided to think nothing more of the matter as she began unpacking the bags.

She bit her lip when she’d arranged everything, feeling even worse about how rude she’d been to her new neighbour. She googled how to say ‘rude’ then knocked on his door.

“I sorry… I rude,” she said, looking up at the blonde when he opened the door.

He let out a little laugh, “You weren’t rude. Come in.” He moved from the door gesturing in, in case she hadn’t understood. She smiled and walked in seeing mostly green; plants covered every surface. She noticed no bed in the room, but two doors were to the left.

“So you didn’t tell me your name?” he said as he started making coffee, she recognised ‘name’.

“Claudia,” she responded, using the German pronunciation.

“That’s a very german name for a not very german girl.” He flashed a smile, she had no idea what he had said. He noticed her confused look and repeated the sentence in English.

“Ah, it’s Claudia in England,” she changed the pronunciation. He nodded placing two mugs of steaming coffee on the coffee table.

“Sit.” He waved to the sofa before he sat.

He took a sip, “So, when did you move to Germany?” he asked a little slower than he normally would. She slowly translated in her head. “Yesterday,” she replied.

His royal blue eyes widened, “Then well done for your German!” he praised. She cocked her head, the words not making sense. “I congratulate you on your German,” he switched to English after another sip. “It’s good, I’d thought you were here a few months at least.”

“Thank you,” she blushed a little.

“What do you do?” he asked, continuing in English.

“Erm…” She wasn’t sure how to respond. “I used to work in the governance of hospitals… but… I don’t work at the moment.” It was true. “You?”

“Car salesman… it’s fine though, they’re new.” He smiled with every ounce of charm he possessed. It made her feel warm and comfortable for the first time since running away.

“Gift of the gab then?” she asked, a small laugh leaving her lips. His eyebrows furrowed, it was her turn to re-phrase, “Charismatic… you’re good with words.”

“Ah, I suppose I am, yes.” He gave her a slightly bashful but mischievous grin.

She left Noah’s with the first smile on her face in months. But she couldn’t get too close, there was no point. She looked around her small apartment and realised one thing, she’d forgotten to buy food. She sighed to herself, but ignored the gripe that had started in her stomach. She’d eat the next day, skipping meals had become normal.

She slipped into her newly made bed, fully clothed. The sheets were soft against her hands and face. She realised she’d picked a certain shade of blue… the same blue of the man she was hiding from’s bedroom.

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She fell into a paranoid routine, twitching the net curtain back at any sound, checking the door for any marks or cameras.

Despite it being the middle of summer if she went out of the building she donned a hooded jacket to hide her face. Again… just in case. She had decided not to knock on Noah’s door again, she couldn’t grow attached to him, and with her increasing loneliness, she couldn’t trust herself.

She’d been at the apartment a week, her jumpiness increasing to the point she was thinking of cutting her losses and moving on. A gentle knock echoed on her door. Her breathing hitched, her heart pounded to the point of a headache as she quickly checked outside, not seeing any unusual cars, she checked her peephole. Seeing blonde hair she asked, “Who is it?” She’d been practising her German.

“Noah,” his voice came back. She rested her head on the cool wood of the door, her lip going between her teeth, “H-how can I help you?” she asked, the door still firmly shut.

“I wondered if you fancied that German lesson?” Her thoughts left her mind, and so did her rationality apparently. Before she had thought it through… or thought at all, the door was open.

“Hallo, I started to worry you were avoiding me.” He smiled. She squinted slightly, gradually the words clicked in her head, at least the gist of what he had said.

“No, sorry. I was busy,” she said carefully.

“Ah, look who’s been practising!” She bit her lip this time, not understanding enough of the words.

She realised he was standing in the corridor, “Coffee?” she asked.

“Ja.” Noah smiled as she stepped away from the door.

She placed the two steaming mugs of coffee on the five euro coffee table. They made small talk in German, Noah repeating her sentence if it was incorrect, or repeating in English if she didn’t understand. He was patient and a great teacher. She was honoured he was taking the time out of his evening. “So what brought you to Germany?” he asked.

She bit her lip, not for lack of understanding. “It’s… difficult.”

“How?”

She scratched her arm self-consciously. She couldn’t tell him the truth. “Erm… bad boy?”

He frowned, “I think we’ll continue in English? It may be easier,” he offered kindly, a calm smile on his face.

She nodded, “OK, My… boyfriend. He’s an arsehole.”

“So… you had to change countries?” he asked, a little sceptically, his golden eyebrow rose.

“Yeah… Was worried he’d find me, he’s kind of a stalker.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Do the police know?”

“They won’t do anything… he’s… rich.” She took a quick sip of the now warm liquid.

“But if he’s stalking you… that’s a crime.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll stay here a bit then move on before he finds me.”

“What do you mean by ‘a bit’?” he asked, frowning deeply.

She sighed, “Couple of weeks,” she muttered reluctantly.

His light eyebrows met in the middle. “That’s… that’s no way to live, Claudia.”

She shrugged, she didn’t have a choice. “I won’t be alive if he finds me. It’s this or death.” That was the truth. “Don’t worry about it… You’ve been a wonderful teacher… thank you,” she stated, both moving the conversation on, and partly dismissing him. Why get to know someone if only for a few weeks? And he wouldn’t even know her real name. Even though… it wasn’t her name, she had no name.

“I’d still like to teach you German while you’re here.” Noah smiled.

She was caught off guard, “I… Thanks… Y-you don’t have to though,” she stammered in uncertainty.

“It would be an honour,” he replied warmly.

As Noah left she felt a warmth spread through her… a desire for closeness, a desire for more than she could have. Another life? Yeah, sure. But she couldn’t, one man stood in her way. The man that she was stupidly reminded of when she looked at the deep blue bedding. A man she was reminded of with every twitch of her curtain to ensure he hadn’t found her… but part of her wanted him to find her… she was so lonely.

She sunk onto her bed, collapsing backwards in frustration at her traitorous thoughts. She hummed in annoyance as she turned over. She really needed to get him out of her head. He wasn’t her friend, he was the enemy. And she desperately missed the enemy.

She missed his strong protective hugs. She missed his smooth baritone voice that sent shivers down her spine. She missed his admiration of her spirit, the fire she kept because she refused to bow, refused to be told what to do. She missed him demanding her to sleep on the other side of the bed to protect her. She missed him slamming into her until she came again and again. She even missed his dominant angry fucks. The ones where he just needed release so would shift anything in the way and pound her mercilessly. She groaned as she pressed her thighs together.

She couldn’t think of him in that way. He was a murderer, a criminal, a man who wouldn’t think twice at saying the word to have someone killed. He was dangerous, he was violent, he was everything dark in the world.

He’s Mafia.