I’m grateful I had my wallet and it was full of cash.
I ditched my credit cards and anything else traceable, pitched my gun in a trash can but kept the clips and got rid of the one in the chamber, bought a fucking bus ticket for the first one leaving New York, then raided the vending machines to get something in my system; I immediately threw up afterward thanks to everything that happened. I made sure to stuff what I could in my pockets, though, and I bought a refillable water bottle from the shitty Adirondacks souvenir stand to make sure I was covered there, too.
I didn’t even bother asking where I was going when I bought my first ticket, just said I wanted to get the hell out of here as soon as possible, and that’s pretty much been my script every time the Greyhound hits another station.
We passed a sign that said we were entering Minnesota not long ago, and I imagine we’re heading to one of the twin cities since the bus is packed.
I don’t give a fuck where I end up as long as it’s somewhere so obscure and so far away from Dimitri that he’ll never find me.
I rub my hand over my chest as his name runs through my head, almost as if his mate bite is having a phantom reaction to it by remembering what it felt like when he gave it to me.
Something that probably won’t ever change since I didn’t reject his bite and it healed without any issues.
A lone tear slips down my cheek and I quickly swipe at it, done crying over everything I lost and the things I can’t change. I hate that this is my reaction, that this is how I’m dealing with all of this, and it makes me angrier thinking this is Dimitri’s fault, too. If he hadn’t bonded with me, if he hadn’t made me love him, I wouldn’t be crying like a fucking baby over having him break my fucking heart.
More shit I can’t change and absolutely hate.
I push those feelings down as I watch another station in the distance get closer, obviously another stop that I hopefully don’tneed to buy another ticket at. It would probably help if I paid attention to what I was doing, then I’d have a fucking clue where I was going and how many stops I had.
Doesn’t matter.
I should get out and stretch my legs, and it probably wouldn’t hurt to hit a real bathroom to check my bullet holes. I can refill my water, too. At least I’m staying hydrated, despite barely being able to eat.
After checking off all the things on my very short mental checklist, I walk around the lobby, looking at pamphlets on tourist spots and flyers about missing teens. This pales in comparison to anywhere in New York but it might be a lot for Minnesota, and it might be worse once I land in a bigger city.
One like Minneapolis.
My eyes catch on the name, the city listed on a small white card tacked to the bulletin board. It looks handwritten, like someone made a note for themself then changed their mind, but it’s less that and more the rest of what the card says that has me curious.
Omega’s Haven in Minneapolis.
No number, no address, there isn’t anything else but those two things, and for some reason, it feels like this is more than a weird coincidence.
But I don’t know if I believe in fate anymore, not after she was such a cunt to me for the last twenty-plus years.
Still, I stuff the card in my wallet then shove it back in the pocket of my hoodie.
I don’t know what this is, or if it’s a good idea, for all I know it’s some sex trafficking ploy—I should know—but it couldn’t hurt to find out.
I don’t really give a shit anymore, anyway, and what’s the worst that could happen when life has already ridden my ass hard and put me away sopping wet?
CHAPTER 1
LIV
RUNAWAY TRAIN - SOUL ASYLUM
Present Day
It’s funny—and probably sad as hell—that almost my entire life can fit inside one bag.
It’s all I’ve ever needed. Just one to hold all of my earthly possessions. One sorry excuse for a piece of luggage to tote around everything that I deem important.
Necessities only, never more than I can carry comfortably and without tiring. Nothing extra that will slow me down.
Backpacks are the easiest in terms of making that happen.
Hands free, secure, easy to hide with.
