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A loud knock pounds on the door, making us both jump.
Dad’s eyes go wide. “Oh Jesus, no.” He looks at the door I just came through then snaps his gaze to me. “They found me. You need to go.”
My heart slams in my chest, and my lungs tighten painfully. He looks to the window when the pounding on the door comes again. He means for me to take the fire escape, but I’m not leaving without him.
Instinct takes over. Instinct, adrenaline, and the need to survive.
“You are coming with me. I will never forgive you if you stay and get yourself killed,” I proclaim with balled fists.
The person is now kicking against the door. If I didn’t believe Dad was in danger before, I believe it now.
“Ava—”
“Come.” I grab his hand and drag him to the long French window.
I prize it open, and the crisp night air stings my cheeks. We get out onto the shaky metal steps and start our descent. It’s unstable, but we don’t waste time. We make good speed getting down them, and I’m glad Dad is cooperating.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t believe what I’m doing. I just know we have to try.
We get to the bottom of the stairs, and I take his hand. My car is parked just around the corner by the convenience store. I run with him, practically pulling him along.
We manage to get to my car, and I get him inside, but before I can get in, a man runs around the corner by the tallest lamp post and starts calling to us to stop.
When another jumps on his motorcycle, I jump in the car and gun the engine.
I drive top speed running a red light, panic fueling me.
I’m driving, but I don’t know where the fuck to go. I glance in the rearview mirror and see I have two bikers on my ass, on bikes that look like they were pulled from the set ofThe Terminator. Joining them in the chase is a midnight black Ferrari.
I’m screwed… fucked.
I glance at Dad, who has his eyes trained on the men chasing us, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Where can we go?
Who are these people?
How much does Dad owe that this is happening to us?
How much is it?
We’re driving, and I can’t think straight.
It’s almost like I’m coaxed into driving toward the docks. I hate going there at any time, let alone at this time of night. I absolutely hate it. The place is too enclosed and suffocating. I know mobsters hang out there too. I can feel it, and that’s enough for me to stay away. Anyone with half a brain would do the same, yet here I am, driving straight to more danger.
I have no choice though—that’s where the road curves. Other than driving through the apartment complex—and I mean literally driving through the walls of the place—I have to take this road.
I speed up, going a hundred miles an hour, and flip the car around the next corner, hoping to lose our friends. It works, but only because there’s a truck passing.
I take the stroke of luck I was just handed and speed faster.One fifty. I’ve never even driven past the hundred mark. Now I know I’m sure to get more than a ticket. I’ll probably be banned from driving for life.
I wonder if the judge will understand that we were fleeing for our lives, and fleeing is exactly what we are doing because we’re still facing the problem of going to the docks, meaning eventually, we’ll run out of roads. There’ll be nothing but Lake Michigan all around us.
What will we do? Swim?
Fuck.
On that thought, I turn down another road. I think we need to get out and hide. If we can hide somewhere, then we may be okay. We could hide out until morning and go to the police.
