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Glancing at the car’s internal tablet screen, I selected a number I had saved before I left, needing someone to take my mind off the thoughts plaguing me.
“I feel like this is bad news,” Sophia answered hesitantly on the first ring. Although I told her I would let her know how everything went, her and I knew that was a lie. I would’ve gotten rid of my phone if I’d made it to Vancouver. Of course I had her number written down, but it wouldn’t have been safe to contact her for a few months at least.
“He knew,” I sighed simply, and I filled her in on what happened. The airport, the plane ride, and the move back to East Haven. I held a few things back though, like how dangerous Tommaso truly was and how we ended up together in the first place. After I told her the truth about how he treated me and hinted at what he was willing to do to keep me in line, she made me promise to not keep any more secrets. But there were some things I just couldn’t voice. Some things that showed how weak I’d truly become, and I couldn’t bear to hear the pity in her tone, not to mention the danger she could be in if I divulged everything. That was part of his power over me too; I lived in constant fear he would hurt those I cared for, especially since he never missed the opportunity to threaten them. And I knew if I told her, she’d get her father involved, and I couldn’t risk their lives.
“That fucking bastard,” she seethed. The echo of what sounded like her fist hitting something came through the speaker, punctuating her anger. “I’m on my way there now, no arguing. I should’ve done this in the first place. We’ll leave together.”
“I can’t let you do that, Sophia, you know how dangerous he is. Besides, he drained my account, transferred it all to the joint one, so I’d have no money to get us anywhere,” I explained, hoping she could see reason before she did something brash. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her because of me.
“I have money,” she groaned, but she and I both knew it wouldn’t be enough. She worked with me in marketing and made a good salary, but with the cost of rent in Manhattan we both knew she didn’t have enough for a new start for both of us, and I didn’t want her to have to borrow anything from her family. I did, before he wiped my cards, but there was no way to get that back now, not with my name on the joint account. There’d be no proof that he was holding it from me, and no one would be willing to listen, not when it would be their life on the line. “I’ll save up,” she amended, knowing exactly what I would’ve said.
“No, Sophia, I—I can’t talk freely,” I groaned, glancing around the interior of the car. I wanted to tell her what was happening, but I couldn’t risk it, not if he’d planted a listening device in here. “But as soon as I can I’ll tell you the rest.”
“Giana,” she warned, but I wouldn’t risk it. I smacked my palm against my forehead, cursing my desperation once more. How had I only now thought about a listening device or a GPS? Technology might be convenient but the world was developing into a scary place with how easy it was becoming to stalk someone’s every move.
“I promise, I’ll tell you as soon as I’m able to, but I have to go,” I urged, attempting to keep my voice as calm and steady as I could, but even I could detect the slight tremor there now that the thought crossed my mind.
“Stay safe, Gi,” she sighs, her voice slightly muffled, and I could just picture her scrubbing a hand over her face in frustration. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” I didn’t give myself a moment to reconsider and immediately pressed the end-call button.
My free leg bounced in apprehension, doubt clouding my mind as though my confidence was setting along with the sun. Thankfully I didn’t dare pull up the route on either my phone or the car GPS, at least that would be one less damning piece of evidence against me. My stomach churned as conflicting thoughts rushed through my mind, and I pulled to the side of the road, not trusting my ability to maneuver the car through the narrow streets while fighting off a panic attack. My breaths came in ragged pants, my throat so dry I choked against the sensation.
I put the car into park and leaned back against the headrest as I attempted to control my breathing. My eyelids closed and I counted to ten, holding each breath and shoving every other thought from my brain. I reached for the water bottle I knew was placed in the cup holder and guzzled down the cool liquid like it was a lifeline, helping to ease the ache in my throat.
This wasn’t me. I wasn’t this person.I’d spent every moment of the past six years just surviving. This life was making me become this person I barely even recognized. The old Giana wouldn’t have cared if he found out, would’ve rattled his cage each chance she got. But I grew complacent, abiding by his rules to keep others safe. I tried to convince myself I could handle it, that this was what I deserved for one stupid mistake. The old me was chipped away bit by bit, until all that was left was this shattered version of myself.
I had to do this. I needed to get out of here, away from him. My eyes popped open, as though that realization was the key to the lock. I inhaled a startled breath when I examined where exactly I’d stopped. The old firehouse just on the edge of town, the one place of refuge I used to have. It was abandoned long ago, the Barones paying for a new state-of-the-art facility in the center of town—and closer to their house—made this one obsolete. And rather than wasting the money on demolition, they just left the old building as it was, boarding up all the doors and windows to keep people out … well most people. We took it over as soon as the dust had settled, and it became our place to escape, to tune out the family drama at home and just be us.
Judging by the overgrown weeds climbing up the sides of the brown bricks it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Probably not since our graduation …
I ground my teeth against the memories that flooded to the surface and focused on myself. I needed to get back to the person I was before. Hell, even then I was still under my parents’ thumbs, ruled by their constant threats to take away my job, the sole source of income I had. I pushed down my feelings then too, letting others push me around, harass me, take advantage of me—but not anymore. A few more months of this and I would save up some money, just enough for first and last month’s rent on an apartment and then get another job. I just had to put some distance between me and the Barones, find somewhere to disappear under the radar until I could trust a supplier to get me the documents to travel abroad. But the first step was tonight. I might get caught, but the alternative would be to accept this life, to accept this empty person I’d become.
I glanced at the firehouse again and steeled myself, accepting that there may be consequences to my actions tonight, but I’d rather that than sink into this pit of self-pity and doubt. The embers of independence and defiance flickered inside me—brighter this time—as I put the car back into drive and headed straight to The Inferno.
IfrownedasIpulled up to The Inferno, my eyes scanning the line of motorcycles parked out front before examining the bar itself. It was only a few minutes’ drive past the firehouse, and I idly realized how much danger we’d inadvertently put ourselves in as teenagers. We were so close to a known hangout of the Demon Riders, the local motorcycle club that was known to be even worse than the Barones for their brutality. They didn’t have the cash flow or influence to overtake them though, not six years ago and not now judging by the ramshackle bar. Dirt kicked up as I pulled into a parking space, and I grimaced knowing it would stick to the unblemished paint.
A few men lingered outside, leaning against their bikes while they cast curious glances my way. I again cursed Tommaso and his ostentatious car choice, wishing I could’ve gotten a beater somewhere, but that wasn’t an option and it wouldn’t be, so my focus had to be on rent money, that’s it. I could purchase a last-minute bus ticket to the next town over and switch buses until I got where I needed to be. I’d be traceable but that was a risk I had to take. Once I got a job, I had to give myself a time limit on getting out of here to avoid falling into the same traps as last time. I wouldn’t be complacent, not anymore.
I drew in a calming breath, steeling myself for this. I could be walking into a number of scenarios but I had to do this. Pushing open the door, I gingerly stepped out of the car. Heels were probably not the best choice, but I did at least choose wisely with the tight jeans and low-cut black top, not too flashy and not over-the-top sexy but enough to show off my curves. Swinging my crossbody purse over my shoulder, I patted the bulge there as reassurance that I remembered my taser.
I closed the door as silently as possible, not wanting to draw more attention to me than I already had, and made sure to lock my car. I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if I came back out here to an empty parking space or no wheels. Training my eyes on the entrance, I strode toward it, pulling on a mask of cool confidence. A whistle sounded from one of the men leaning on their bikes, but I ignored it. I could put up with this for a few months. I used to do it all the time as a teenager, what was the difference now? As I closed the distance, a squealing guitar solo was cranked up from inside the bar, drowning out whatever else the men behind me had to say. I pushed open the door and immediately fought to keep the wince off my face as the amp screeched, the sound nearly deafening.
The stench of stale beer smacked me in the face as I stepped in, my shoes sticking to the thick varnish of the dark hardwood floors. The bar was packed inside, men clad in thick leather jackets took up almost every seat in the place with a few women within the groups. A few patrons were sitting on the dark-brown wooden bar stools. The inside looked clean, but I could tell it hadn’t been updated in years. Pictures of antique cars and bikes lined the walls, along with license plates and hub caps as though they were pieces of art. I pushed down my thoughts of the place, it didn’t matter what my impression was, money was money, and I definitely was not in any position to judge.
“Get off the stage,” a man shouted and stood as a chorus of boos echoed around the bar. My gaze slid over the stage at the far side just as the band paused their playing, and the loud twang of their instruments reverberated off the walls, piercing my eardrums. I fought back the urge to slap my hands over my ears, not wanting to offend anyone.
“You wouldn’t know good music if it hit you in the face,” the lead singer jeered, throwing the microphone to the ground and stomping over to the grey-haired man.
“I sure as hell know what bad music is, my ears are fucking bleeding,” he quipped back, stepping into the narrow walkway to confront the singer now foaming at the mouth in rage.
“Kick his ass,” someone else shouted, and I took that as my cue to get the hell out of the way. Ending up thrown into the middle of a bar fight was not the way I wanted to start off my night. Especially not when that would mean someone was going to get zapped.
I sidestepped over to an empty space at the bar, leaning against the cool varnished wood rather than taking a seat. The last thing I wanted to do was let one of these guys think I was open to being chatted up. The muffled sound of grunts and fists meeting flesh sounded behind me followed by a round of cheers, but I kept my gaze trained on the woman behind the bar.
“Mike,” she called out, briefly glancing at the brawling men as she huffed out a breath of exasperation. She turned to grab a bottle of liquor off the back wall and her long black hair swung out around her small frame. Her dark-brown eyes were lined with thick black eyeliner, and she had a seemingly permanent derisive curve to her lips. I mean, I guess I would too if I worked here.
A burly bouncer stomped out from the back drawing my gaze back to the brawling men. His shoulders were massive, and he reached out to pluck both men up by their collars, holding them back with barely any effort.
