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Instantly, I doubt it’s my father, knowing that if he wanted me home, he would have made sure I was ages ago. I shake my head, running into the streets until I find a safe place to hide. It’s not much, but a small ally behind what looks to be a bar. I run and I run, getting a few whistles in the process. This is L.A. after all, I’m sure most have seen worse. I position myself behind a dumpster, shielding myself from being exposed and doing my best to hide in case they come looking for me.
“I’m not supposed to be doing this,” a man says, tossing something at me and throwing a phone in my direction. “If anyone asks, you did this on your own. No one helped you. Someone gave you a phone, and you called your brother. You found this shirt in the damn dumpster, understand?” I nod my shockingly nervous head up at the man who’s come into my view.
“Who are you?” I ask, needing to know who this guardian angel is.
“Can’t tell you that, sweetheart. Just know you have friends in many places, and remember your allies have people everywhere. The Steele’s are always watching, Aria. Know that they are your friends, friends to you and your...angel.”
I listen to what he says, putting the pieces together as best as possible. He works for the Steeles, undoubtedly the Steele brothers. Notorious for being the largest gun runners in North America.
I slide on the shirt he threw me as he disappears down the other end of the ally, unlocking the phone and calling the one person who can help me. Or rather, the one person I trust to help me. The phone rings and rings until I think that he’s not going to answer, only to have the line open up, with no greeting. “Marcel, it’s me. Please come get me. Dear God, please help!” I sob into the phone,
“Jesus, Aria?!”
I nod, tears flooding over my cheeks. “I’ll send you my location, please get here quick. I’m so scared, Marcel,” I confess and shoot my brother my exact location, praying he gets here before the Chinese do.
