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“I know, Adriana,” I replied. “And I will handle this. You have my word.”
She glanced at me, her eyes wide and frightened, filled with the harsh reality of our situation. “You promise?”
Looking straight into her eyes, I reached over to squeeze her hand reassuringly. “I promise you, Adriana. We’re going to be okay.”
I hoped she believed me, even though it definitely felt like a lie.
Chapter Eleven: Adriana
My hands were trembling on the steering wheel as Tristan directed me to take the freeway south. The roar of cars and the glow of street lamps were strangely comforting, familiar in a way the last hour of my life hadn’t been. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting those men to be right behind us, but all I saw were other late-night drivers, each in their own world, oblivious to ours.
“Take exit 17,” Tristan instructed, his voice steady despite the chaos around us. His eyes never left the road, scanning for any sign of danger. I followed his orders without question.
“Are they behind us?” I said, looking over my shoulder.
Tristan shook his head. “No. I think they stopped pursuing us when we got on the freeway. Highway patrol," he said. “And I’ve been watching for them.”
I let out a shaky breath, feeling a slight sense of relief. It was small but still present amidst the overwhelming fear and confusion. The lights from the oncoming cars blurred with my tears as Tristan continued to give me directions.
We drove in silence for a while, the only sound being the steady hum of the car engine and the soft music coming from the radio. I could feel Tristan’s gaze on me, and I knew he was probably worried about me.
I didn’t blame him.
If I were in his shoes, I’d be worried too. He had every reason to be concerned, considering he was involved with a pregnant woman who was now tangled up in his dangerous world.
“Right here,” he pointed at a nearly invisible dirt road. I wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t said something. The entrance was hidden among the tall trees and thick foliage.
Without argument, I turned the wheel and guided the car onto the road. The Audi shook slightly as we transitioned from asphalt to dirt but smoothed out as I slowed down.
“It’s not much further,” Tristan reassured, his hand reaching over to squeeze mine. His touch was warm and, despite everything, comforting.
The house wasn’t what I’d expected. It was small and unassuming, nestled into the forest like it was a part of the landscape. The windows were dark but I could see the silhouette of a second floor against the moonlit sky.
“Is this it?” I asked, pulling the car up near the entrance. Tristan nodded, his hand releasing mine to open the door.
He nodded. “This is it.” He reached over to switch off the headlights, cloaking us in the hushed darkness of the forest. It felt like we were alone in our little bubble while chaos reigned outside.
“Let’s go inside,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door. I followed his cue, getting out of the car and taking a moment to observe our surroundings. The forest was eerily quiet, save for the hooting of an owl somewhere above us. It was a far cry from the gunshots and screeching cars we’d left behind.
Tristan came around to my side, offering his hand to help me up. His touch sent a jolt through me. We hadn’t really touched since he’d found out about the baby and somehow, it felt different now.
It felt like I was his.
“Watch your step,” he said. “There are roots in the ground here.”
Gently holding my hand, he guided me toward the quaint house. The smell of damp earth and rustling leaves wrapped us in a soothing calm, providing a stark contrast to the chaos we had just escaped.
The door creaked open to reveal a modest interior, carrying the scent of old wood and faint traces of burnt candle wax. The furniture was minimal; a worn-out couch against one wall, a small fireplace across from it, and a kitchen with outdated appliances in the corner. This place felt more like a hideaway as opposed to a safehouse—quiet, remote, tucked away from the rest of the world. Something about the silence here was oddly disquieting, I was used to the hustle and bustle of city life. But I couldn’t deny that it was beautiful, and if I had been here under other circumstances, I might have loved it.
I didn’t love this. It made me feel scared. Vulnerable. Like it was the perfect spot to bring me and kill me.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Tristan said in a quiet voice as he closed the door behind us and began to search around for light switches.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking around at our temporary sanctuary. “I’m calling my dad,” I said.
He stopped for a second. “I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.
“Not tonight, maybe, but tomorrow, he’s not going to be able to get in touch with me,” I told him. “My father is already chomping at the bit to go to war with your family. What makes you think he’s not going to go after your brothers or your dad if he can’t find me?”
