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Drake looked at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Really? You aren’t scared?”
“I’m fucking terrified, Drake. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hunt this fucker down and pull his guts out while he screams.”
Drake put his hand behind my head and pulled my face to his, kissing me hard. When he pulled back, he grinned at me. “Dahlia, you do know how to make my dick hard, don’t you?”
Owen thought he could toy with us, but the game was about to change. He’d see just how deep our darkness ran. We were the embodiment of the horrors he sought to wield, but our shadows danced to no one’s tune but our own.
With each step toward the door, I felt the pull of the chase, the savage joy of survival. Owen may have set the stage, but we were the masters of our own fates, our lives inked in blood and lust, not fear.
Drake pulled open the kitchen drawer and pulled two long knives out, handing one to me. He held the handle of his in his hand, the blade tucked against his forearm, the tip pointed toward his elbow to keep it hidden but ready. I slipped my own up my sleeve and let the handle rest in my palm while Drake eased the front door open and glanced outside.
No one was near. No police sirens, no footsteps, nothing. Without taking his eyes off the exterior, he gestured for me to follow. The cool night air struck us as we left our refuge behind. The residential compound had looked so quaint and quiet when we first arrived. Safe and comforting. Now? The dark shadows around us looked more like grasping clawing fingers, trying to clutch at us and drag Drake and me down to hell. Every sound was a possible footstep of Sam, or Bri perhaps, ready to slice our bodies open, spilling our blood for the worms.
Even when we reached the guards at the valet station, our fear didn’t abate. I kept giving the armed men furtive glances, the pistols on their hips looking ominous. Had Sam bribed one of these men to let him on the property? Was that how he’d piped the video feed to our room? How much would he have to pay them for one of these people to pull their gun out and splatter our brains all over the cobblestones?
When the car arrived and Drake threw our bags in the back, I climbed in, still preparing myself for the sound of gunfire, the pop of a bullet shattering the bone of my skull and then everlasting darkness. It didn’t come, though. We drove away unmolested, unarrested, and unharmed. Drake drove us into the darkness, our new destination a hidden secret. And behind us, Sam continued to slither in the night.
Chapter 11
Dahlia
Each mile that vanished behind us sent another surge of adrenaline through my body. Where did we go next? We’d already run from Greece to Italy, and if Sam could follow us that closely, then he could follow us anywhere. It all made me want to throw up. That and kill. As Drake drove into the downtown area again, I imagined cutting out Sam’s asshole and then jamming my hand into the gaping wound, shredding flesh until I could yank his cock and balls out through the back door. Despite my nervousness and fear, a tremor of desire washed over me as I pictured it in my head. My pussy was wet when Drake spoke next.
“I want to try something. I’ve got a bad feeling,” he said.
“About what?”
“You’ll see in a second if I’m right.”
He pulled the car into a parking spot beside a well-lit ATM on a busy street. Probably choosing the spot to ensure no one could sneak up on us and do harm without being seen. Not wanting to be left behind, I got out and followed him to the ATM as he pulled his wallet out.
“I thought we weren’t using cards,” I said.
“We weren’t going to for a while, but we’re running low on money.” He nodded back toward the car. “That cost way more than it should have to keep them from filing paperwork. Renting that villa? Same thing. We’ve got plenty for now, but I’m wondering how long it will last.”
He slid the card into the reader and punched in his pin and tried to withdraw a hundred euros, only to see the following notification in bright red letters: Transaction Declined.
“Son of a bitch,” he hissed. “He’s gotten into my accounts. It’s what I thought.” Drake yanked his card from the reader in frustration and jammed it back into his wallet.
“What do we do now?”
“We obviously need new identities again. God knows if these have been burned. That will cost money; we also need them to get out of the country. I don’t know…” He trailed off, his worried expression fading until a faint smile crossed his lips.
“What? What are you thinking?” I grabbed his shirt, tugging on him to snap him out of his reverie.
“There’s a safe house I own. I’ve not been there in years. As far as I know I never mentioned it to Sam, er, Owen. Not even in passing. It’s fully paid for and the small staff that keeps it up is paid from a shell account. There’s no way he could know about it. If we get there with them tailing us, we should be able to stay there indefinitely until we figure out how to go after these fucks chasing us.”
“Where is it, Drake? You haven’t said yet.”
He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again just as fast, glancing around. “I’ll tell you, but not right now. I’m a little paranoid about how Owen is tracking us. First things first. IDs.”
Drake and I got back into the car and he drove us to the heart of the city, bypassing the tourist areas, and skirting around Naples International Airport until we were driving into a more run-down part of town. Even the worst areas looked better than many American cities I’d seen on TV, but I could tell we were in a location that tourists rarely, if ever, visited.
He cruised the tiny streets at a snail pace, looking out his driver’s side window at the passing buildings.
“What the hell are you looking for?” I asked, my nerves rattling my brain, and making me jumpy.
“A place that looks right,” he replied cryptically.
