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That dream is quickly washing away like the tide after it comes ashore.
I won’t let it. No. Fucking. Way.
Gritting my teeth I move to the workbench and see that the tickets have been disturbed, slapping myself on the forehead. This is it. This is what she saw and got spooked.
Trying to think straight but failing I do my best to solve this puzzle.
Where would she go? Where?
Not back to the dorm. Not home.
Tapping my boot I think harder. She’s scared and lost. She either goes to an all-night diner to sort it out…or to the cops.
I can’t allow either.
Back on my bike, wads of cash and a USB-like device with a couple million in Bitcoin on it and the tickets to the Bahamas and my computer in tow, I take off needing to find her. Needing to never come back here.
The decision made for me I make a U-turn, go back to the warehouse, and re-enter, hitting the timer I had programmed last year in case of an emergency.
Back on my bike I beat it out of there, knowing I’ve got three minutes to put distance between me and my old home…before it blows to smithereens.
And if I can’t find her, my future along with it.
9
Sapphire
What am I doing here and where exactly is here?
Tiptoeing my way around more warehouses and abandoned buildings than I can count I try to move discreetly through the night, but it seems like every time I walk past another chain link fence another blood-thirsty dog comes raging at me, trying to stick its nose and razor-sharp teeth through the metal to rip my face off. And make a ton of noise in the process.
I could really use Sergio right now, ironic considering he’s exactly the man I’m running from.
How is it that I ever found myself attracted to such a brute thug? The signs that he was a dangerous man were there from the first second, but I just kept ignoring them, pushing them to the side until eventually, they caught up with me.
Will he catch up with me at some point before I make it to the police station? Or will someone else beat him to it?
I’m not about to waste any more time around here finding out.
Moving as quickly as I can, speed walking without running, I try to keep my eyes open for anyone who might be able to help me. A store, a diner, someone driving a forklift, anyone. But this whole area is as barren as the Sahara.
Continuing to pound the pavement I finally spot some light in the distance. A street. An actual street.
Breathing a sigh of relief I move toward it, seeing that it is indeed a 7-11. I don’t have any money but at least I can probably persuade the clerk to manually key in my credit card number or something, so I can get something to drink. And then to borrow that hopefully Good Samaritan’s phone to call my father, praying he’ll pick up.
Or will I?
Maybe that’s my problem. I’m the spoiled rich girl who’s always relying on others to solve my problems. I realize how gross it is, but also know this is a real issue, not something that I’m blowing out of proportion.
I have a problem with my ex, I call what turns out to be a hitman.
I get denied admission to college, despite my grades, my father makes a donation and suddenly my admission status is reversed. Approved!
If I’m to be taken seriously as an adult, by myself and by others, I need to level up and solve problems on my own.
Getting good grades and all that is one thing. Navigating my way through the real world of life, on my own, is another.
I need to up my street smarts for sure. Oddly, Sergio was taking me down that path, even instilling more self-confidence in me…but look how that turned out.
