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Elijah’s scent lingered in that storage space, and it affected me, despite the staleness hanging in the air. Even now, in this dingy, dirty place, his hold on me was too strong. But if I stayed, I was sure I wouldn’t survive. Orson would find a way to make an example out of me.
Opening the door to the shed, I glanced furtively about again, pulling my tresses up into my trademark messy bun before shuffling toward the back door.
The decision was made.
Pack a bag, take whatever money I had on hand, and get out of town. When I got far enough away, I’d call on Elijah and ask him to join me, but if I stayed, he would surely find a way to convince me to remain.
I’d already pushed my luck to the outer brinks.
In the crawlspace, I found a huge duffle bag, which I could strap to my back in either form. To disappear, I’d have to avoid any form of public transportation, lest Orson send his crew looking for me. There would be nights on my own in the wilderness until I was off his known territory.
Running back up to the second floor, I started to pack my essentials, filling the bag with comfortable clothes and toiletries, a few pieces of odd jewelry. They weren’t worth much, but in a pinch, I could sell them.
My hand closed around a box under my bed, and my throat closed as I realized what it was.
I couldn’t leave the time capsule, even if it would take up too much space. Carefully, I pulled out each fragile object and tucked them safely among my clothes but forsook the hatbox, sliding it back under the mattress.
Grabbing whatever cash I had on hand, along with Orson’s cut for the day, I hurried back downstairs, eager to be on my way before my employer could notice me gone. If I left now, I would have a few hours’ head start, assuming no one had told Orson about seeing me with Elijah yet.
But I wasn’t holding my breath on that.
I slunk toward the back, casting a final look at my house. A pang of sadness shook me, but I brushed it off.
It’s better than death,I reminded myself, reaching for the handle on the back door. But before I could turn it, a loud crash from the front of the house whirled me around.
Orson stood, panting heavily in the splintered doorway, his eyes on fire.
“Going somewhere, Abigail?” he hissed, striding toward me, venom pouring from his words.
Etta rushed in behind him, her face pale and panicked.
“Orson, NO!” the fae cried. “Don’t!”
I turned to run, but I’d wasted my opportunity. Orson lunged for me, his hand snaking around my wrist.
“You two-faced bitch!” he spat. “You made the wrong choice. Again.”
“Orson!” Etta howled, rushing across the threshold, but his ire prevented him from seeing anything but my imminent death. “Abby, I’m sorry! I tried to stop him.”
My eyes locked on his enraged stare as I wrested away from him, but suddenly, I found it very difficult to move.
The gig was up for certain now.
Chapter38
Elijah
“What do you mean you lost her?” I roared into the phone, my legs pounding against the ground. “I gave you specific instructions to follow her!”
“I was following her, but she caught me and told me to go away,” Silver explained on the other end apologetically.
“You work for me!” I snarled.
“I know, sir, and I continued to follow her, but she shifted and took off.”
Dammit, Abby!
“What else did she say?” I demanded, my heart bursting with the exertion of running and talking simultaneously.
