The Runaway Boy (boyxboy)

Prologue

Italics means they're speaking in Italian

....

"I can't do this anymore," I blurted out. My moms stare at me like I'm crazy.

"What can't you do?" my mom asks, befuddled.

"I'm tired of being an assassin, I'm tired of killing people for you. I want to live like a normal teenager," Mom gives her wife an unreadable look.

Mamma sighs and says, "It doesn't work like that honey, you can't just pack up and leave expecting to have a normal life. There are people out there who hate us and will do anything to see us dead."

I decide it's best not to argue with them and retreat to my room.

...

After drifting off to sleep, I wake up abruptly to the shadowy figure of my older brother shaking me awake. I instinctively check my clock, which reads 1:52 am.

"What's going on?" I say as my eyes adjust to the dark.

I can just barely see my brother's short, straight dark hair. His empty, hazel eyes stare at me expectantly.

He shoves something into my hands. Surprised, I drop it and the colorful paper scatters all over the ground.

"Merda! You idiot! I'm trying to be a good brother for once," he says in an angry whisper, "But you always manage to screw things up. So stop staring at me like that and pick up the money!"

I scramble to the floor and hurriedly collect the paper.

There must be at least 5,000 euros in total, I think to myself as I sweep the bills off the ground.

"Mind explaining what's going on at least..?" I whisper meekly.

"I'm helping you leave because I'm tired of hearing your whiny voice," he scowls.

"What about Paris and London? I have to say bye to them. And Ruby, he's not even going to get out of bed in the morning," I say frantically.

Rio rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated groan, "You can just call them on the plane or something. And Ruby is your best friend, not some kid you have to babysit."

He slams a heavy backpack on the ground. "There's a burner phone in there so nobody can track it. It has everything else you'll need."

After rummaging in his pockets for a bit, he hands me something else. "Also, this. A passport, plane ticket, and fake ID."

I glanced down at the ID. My new name is Aaron Tartaglia, and I'm 18 years old.

"What the fuck kind of a name is Tartaglia," I muttered.

"Oh shut up, it's the best I could do. Now get off your lazy ass and get dressed, your plane is supposed to take off in two hours."

I scramble off my bed to give Rio a hug. He stiffens before relaxing and hugging me back awkwardly. "Grazie," I whisper into his shoulder because he's about four inches taller than me.

We pull apart and he smiles, patting me on the back. "I have to go before anyone finds out I'm in here." I watch as he turns around and walks out of the room.
...
Published: 1-3-21