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The hall was dark, but moonlight streamed in from the window at the end of the hall, lighting up the floor enough for me to make sure I didn’t bump into anything.
Without knowing how to get outside, I had to wander. Every door I passed looked to be an internal door, until at last I stepped into what appeared to be a living room with couches, chairs, and a TV. Snoring not so quietly on one of the sofas was a bulky, muscular man with longer hair, leaving me to assume it was Eli. I stood, frozen in panic for several seconds, waiting for him to spring up and discover me. When he didn’t, I relaxed marginally, looking to the coffee table beside the couch. A pair of keys sat atop it.
That’s just too easy, I thought with glee.
I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood as I started for them. Tiptoeing over the plush rug, I bent to reach the keys, pulling them slowly from the table. The clinking of metal on metal was drowned out by Eli’s snores, though he shifted, making my stomach drop.
When he still didn’t wake, I turned to a high-security door that looked like it belonged to a military base.
It was made of steel, and had half a dozen bolts and locks, with several little lights illuminated on a control panel beside it. I swore under my breath, hoping I didn’t need to punch in an access code to exit.
As silently as possible I slid the three deadbolts open, moving so slowly, sweat began to bead on the back of my neck.
When there were no other visible locks needing to be unlatched, I tried the handle. I almost jumped when the door clicked and gave way with ease. Swinging it open, I slipped outside, praying there weren’t people patrolling the area—or worse, that I hadn’t walked right into the line of fire for whoever was so hell-bent on killing Romero.
Before I had time to fully think my plan through, the door’s locks clicked back into place, sealing me out. With a deep breath, I headed for the first vehicle I saw: a newish Range Rover that was either silver or white—it was too difficult to tell in the starry night.
I pressed the unlock button on the key fob, and mercifully, the vehicle responded, its lights flashing. They were so bright I cringed, feeling certain that I was signaling everyone on the planet that I was trying to make a stealthy getaway.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I put the key in the ignition and turned on the Rover before putting it into gear and hit the gas. There was little to no chance that Eli hadn’t heard the engine, which meant I needed to get the fuck out of here before they tracked me down and dragged me back.
I left the lights off, trying to navigate by moonlight alone through what I swore was a jungle. Thankfully, the path was worn enough to make out because the trees were spaced just far apart for me to pass between. Eventually I hit a dirt road and switched my lights on. I drove with my heart pounding so hard, all I could hear was the roaring of blood in my ears.
I expected cars to appear behind me at any moment. But even the one-lane straight seemed to go on forever. My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror countless times, finding only darkness on my trail.
The farther I got from the safehouse, the more my chest ached. I hadn’t left a note, but Romero wasn’t stupid. The way he’d looked at me before falling asleep—like he was committing me to memory—had nearly forced me to confess my plan. If he’d tried to stop me, I likely wouldn’t have fought him.
Because I loved him.
Despite it all—every goddamn reason I should hate the bastard—I couldn’t. But this was how it had to be. I was no mafia queen.
The dirt road ended at a T-junction. Left, as the sign proclaimed, led to Hermosillo. Deeper into Mexico if my geography was correct. Right was Nogales. As much as exploring Mexico was a bucket-list item of mine, I couldn’t make a life for myself in a country I did not have the legal right to remain in.
I turned right, yawning now that my heart rate had settled slightly. Peering down at the gas meter, I figured I’d have to fill up once before I reached the border. It made me nervous, being on the edge of dangerous cartel territory.
The radio didn’t have any music I recognized, but I used it to keep me awake and to keep myself from going out of my mind. Why was no one following me? Had Eli not heard me leave? If he hadn’t, the guy was a terrible watchdog.
My chest painfully squeezed again from knowing that Romero was already aware of my absence, or soon would be. In his condition, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to come after me himself. A small mercy in the face of so much anxiety for what was to come.
Another thought crossed my mind. If I was gone, did all five of his friends need to stay with him? They had their own crime worlds to operate, didn’t they? If they left, he’d be truly alone. The idea made my heart constrict.
I had a million dollars to my name to start over. To tuck myself away somewhere and reinvent myself. Somehow, I’d have to come up with a new identity. And given that my stepfather was a mafia don, I don’t think I would have too much difficulty finding the right people. Apparently I gravitated toward criminals.
My eyelids grew heavy, the road unending. When not even the open windows blasting me with sultry night air and music blaring through the speakers could keep me from dozing, I pulled into the nearest gas station. Being only four o’clock in the morning, the place was barred and empty, save for the light illuminating the worker inside. He stared down at his phone, paying me no attention as I filled the tank.
When I approached, he finally looked up, a joint hanging from his lips. Smoke curled lazily beside his face. One eyebrow was pierced, and the mean look he gave me almost made me feel more awake than caffeine could.
“Hi, sorry, I just need like a soda or a coffee or something. Can I buy from the window?”
He nodded slowly. “Which is it?”
“Um, a Dr Pepper if you have it,” I answered.
The man nodded again, wordlessly pushing away from the counter to grab the soda. Ipaid with my card, and hastily returned to the vehicle, hoping my stop hadn’t lessened the distance between myself and whoever Romero no doubt now had following me.
I guzzled the soda, telling myself that once I got over the border, I could head east and find a hotel to stop at. Only the idea of a bed kept me going.
Before I knew it, I’d emerged back onto US soil. I kept driving until nearly seven in the morning, only managing to get further into Arizona, heading for Texas.
