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Holy shit. He’s tracking my phone. Why does he have to be so damn smart? Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. I shake my hands as my body courses with adrenaline.
I text.
I need to get back to Australia.
He replies.
I know, honey. He has men on the way to the airport.
He’s beside himself.
Are you sure you want to do this?
I text.
He’s been sleeping with Amelie.
He replies.
I’m not sure if that’s true.
I text back.
Forget it. I don’t want your help.
He replies.
Meet me at the Greyhound bus station
1716E 7TH Street
Los Angeles
Take out your simcard and put it in the bin.
Holy crap. Simcard in the bin. What do I need from my phone?
I quickly run to the counter and ask the attendant. “Have you got a pen please?”
She smiles and nods. “Sure.”Her eyes scan my face and I can see her brain ticking at my frantic appearance.
I quickly take it and copy the address from Max’s text onto the back of my hand. And write down Bridget and Abbie’s phone numbers. I hand back the pen. “Thank you.” My stomach fills with dread as I remove the simcard and put it into the bin. I then turn and, running on total autopilot, walk straight out the door and hail a cab.
Joshua
Natasha’s haunted eyes search mine, the door opens and we both look in its direction. Amelie walks in.
“Get out!” I scream.
“He’s all yours.” Natasha cries as her face falls.
I lunge for her as she dives out of the way. “Natasha … Natasha come back.” She bursts out of the door and runs down the corridor.
The heart-rate monitor starts to scream as the nurses burst through the door. “Get the fuck out of here, Amelie.” She looks at me in shock. “Where the fuck are the bodyguards?” I scream at the nurses.
“What the hell is going on with you? You’re acti
ng crazy,” the nurse snaps.
