Voices and car doors could be heard, muffled through the walls of the floor, so I craned my head toward the door to listen. Brett walked to the front door and opened it, waiting. I heard a voice whispering to someone outside, the shutting of a door, and then two pairs of footsteps climb onto the porch.
“Where is Desiree?” a voice said that I instantly recognized.
Hope filled my chest, and I beamed as I shouted.
“Down here!”
I rapped on the door above me, and Aiden stood beside me. There was shuffling above me as the coffee table was moved and voices spoke in low tones as the front door shut. Then the door to the little room opened, and Sammi’s dad’s face beamed down at me.
“Desiree,” he said, sounding relieved. “Thank God.”
“Mr. DeLuca,” I shouted.
Pairs of arms reached down and lifted me effortlessly out of the hole. I embraced Sammi’s dad, and he hugged me tight. An instant and painful memory seared into my mind when I smelled his cologne. It was the same kind my own father had always worn. He and Mr. DeLuca had been best friends, much like Sammi and I were. Hugging him was like hugging a ghost, and I felt tears sting the corners of my eyes.
“You are safe now.”
“I know.”
“Not that she wasn’t safe with you two,” he said, pulling me back into a tight hug and gesturing to Brett and Aiden as the two now stood by the coffee table. “Thank you, boys. You took care of her against some bad stronzos. Which one of you is Aiden?”
Aiden raised his hand, and Mr. DeLuca made a little sound of recognition and held his hand out to shake. Aiden took it, and I pulled away for a moment to move out of the way as the men shut the cellar door.
“Mr. DeLuca,” Aiden said as he shook his hand.
“Call me Al,” he said. “My friends call me Alfredo or Al. After what you did for Nico’s baby girl, you can call me whatever you want.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Yes, thank you,” I echoed.
“Non c’è problema,” he said. “I would do anything for your family. When I heard you ran away, I was devastated. Sammi had to convince me not to come find you and bring you home.”
“I know,” I said. “I just wanted them to leave everyone alone. Dad is dead. Why are they still coming after me?”
“Some people,” he said, his voice going low and fatherly, “they don’t just want power. They want all of it. It’s not enough to be on top. Everyone else has to be on the bottom too.”
I nodded.
“I’m so sorry for bringing you into this,” I said.
“No, Desiree, no,” he said soothingly. “I chose this. We swore to protect each other’s families if things happened to us. I am keeping that promise. I am only sorry it took so long to get here. We’ve been on standby for a while, since the first time Sammi told me where you were. I had to gather supplies for the boys before we could leave as soon as Sammi told me you had to flee the other cabin.”
“They came today,” I said. “Just a few hours ago. They came here.”
“Merda,” he cursed. “You hid in the hole there?”
“Yes. It was Brett’s idea.”
“Smart man,” Al said, pointing to Brett. “Now, let’s get things prepared for if they come back.”
As the six men made their way in, the cabin was getting pretty tight. Everyone worked together hoping to form a game plan. Eventually, Brett was asked if he had any tents, which he was elated to show them. They were roomy, all-weather tents that he bought years before and hid away in his closet, only using them occasionally when he felt like camping in the woods. Three of the men took the tents outside and set them up, placing them at key vantage points along the back and side of the cabin.
Al, for his part, settled almost immediately into the leadership role my father had groomed him for. Once everyone had marching orders, he went to the kitchen, enlisting Brett as a sous chef while he cooked a meal for everyone. It was what I always knew was Al’s great joy—cooking. There was nothing more delightful than he and my father when they would cook, letting my mom and Sammi’s mother chat and me and my friend play. Then hours would be spent around a table with wine and pasta and veal. The good days that were long gone replayed in my head.
With Al and Brett occupied and the rest of the men taking up defensive positions, things calmed down, and I felt more comfortable. I had offered for Al to take the guest bedroom, but he refused. He had said that in order to properly defend and plan, he needed to be in the living room. The living room he had already taken over and turned the television on to a cooking channel which, if I knew him like I thought I did, would not be changed for as long as he was in the cabin. On and off, but not changed.