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It was glorious.
Bubbles fizzled over my tongue as I took another sip of sweet Cava, closing my eyes and relaxing my muscles.
It had been a busy few days of trying to make my tracks the most difficult to follow. I hopped from to bus to bus throughout the Scottish central belt until I reached the borders. From there, I took a train headed south at one of the tiny rural stations. I figured they would check the main Glasgow stations, but it would take weeks to check every backwater village one. The train took me to Manchester, where I picked up a last-minute flight to Spain. Then it had been a series of buses and cabs to dot me about the rural Spanish countryside, going to from one tiny family-run hotel to another. Thankfully, they were a bit more cost effective than the more touristy places by the sea or in the larger towns and cities.
Still, my funds wouldn’t last forever and there was no way I could access my bank accounts. I hadn’t even taken my cards with me. Any transactions would pinpoint exactly where I was, and it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.
A whisper of guilt stole through me as I thought about home. My father would be apoplectically mad. My brothers would probably be a mixture of annoyed and finding it tummy-achingly hilarious. But Maeve, my poor baby sister, well, I feared it would hurt her. What if she suffered the same fate? What is Harold decided any McGowan sister would do? I shook the idea from my head. That thought pattern would bring nothing but pain. While I was too young for Harold, Maeve was almost five years younger than me. Dad wouldn’t offer her up to him. The age gap would be sickening. Plus, the fallout of losing me would surely eradicate any truce between them. Another wash of guilt flitted over me. What if he took it out on my family in the way he had previously? I’d already lost a mother and a brother to Harold. I didn’t want to lose anyone else.
No.
I scolded myself for letting the guilt sway me again. It was not my fault. None of it was. A life of misery and fear wasn’t something I deserved because of being born a woman in a man’s world. I deserved happiness. I deserved love.
The guilt kept coming, though, in great waves that made the bubbling wine taste bitter on my tongue. I had fucked over Alec. If they’d let him get away with my escape, he would be furious. I hoped they hadn’t killed or maimed him for my running.
A flutter of excitement wriggled through me as I remembered his tattooed arms near my face while his hands twisted in my hair. I wish I could have taken him up on his offer of my turn. The way he’d looked down at me while I sucked his dick had made me positively giddy. I’d never enjoyed going down on a guy as much as I had him. Was it just the excitement of my ruse? Was it the long seated attraction I’d had for him? Or was it just because he was absolutely not the kind of guy my dad would allow me to date?
Whatever it had been, it saddened me to not be able to follow it through. A night tangled in the sheets with him would have been a delight, I was sure of it. A tingle had me squeezing my thighs together. Maybe I just needed to find a one-night stand here to scrub Alec from my mind. All going well, I hoped to never see him again.
Seeing him would mean they had caught me.
And going back wasn’t an option.
Rolling onto my stomach, I let the heat wash over my back. It would be time to move on soon. I couldn’t stay in one place too long. Until funds ran out, at least. Then I’d have to use my falsified visa and pick up a job. I’d never had a job. There had never been a need for one. My life was a series of events, parties, shopping, and a lot of boredom. I’d been so very privileged, but my life had been a gilded cage. A little bird sat there waiting until the day I became useful to Dad and married off to the most useful second owner. The lifestyle wasn’t worth the payoff. Not for me, at least.
I’d cling to my freedom with sharp claws.
* * *
Another bus,another village.
I looked out of the window as the night sky replaced the evening sun. I’d need to find a hotel soon. The bus slowed as it trundled to a stop.
‘Your stop,’ the driver said in broken English.
‘Thank you.’ I gathered up my bag and pulled my hoody tight around my body. It was getting pretty cold. ‘Is there a hotel here?’
‘Taverna. Top of the hill.’
‘Gracias.’ I shoved some euros into his hand before alighting from the bus and looking around. The village was cute, even in the dark. The streets were still warm beneath my shoes, the large flat stones warmed by the day’s heat. Red topped roofs glittered in the moonlight atop the muddy coloured stone buildings, all entirely unique in construction. It was breath-taking. As was the hill which made my thighs burn as I ascended it. The entire village had been built onto a hillside, and I definitely wasn’t used to traversing hills like it.
By the time I’d almost reached the top, my calves were protesting against even one more step, and my lungs gulped down air like it was in short supply. At last, I could see the taverna peeking out over the crest of the hill. Warm light spilled out of the windows, with music lilting out into the night air. It was adorable. I really hoped there was an available room.
My breath whooshed out of my mouth as I finally reached the flat portion at the top of the hill, and I smiled when I saw all the greenery surrounding the outside of the stone walled inn. I couldn’t wait to collapse into bed.
A hand slapped over my mouth as I was wrenched back, a scream stifled. Hard stone cut into my hands and knees as I hit the ground. Before I could figure out what was happening, a series of kicks connected to my side, winding my already laboured breathing. I struggled to my knees as the dirty, beer scented hand bruised at my lips. The man was much stronger than I, and the only weapon I had that wasn’t proving ineffective was my teeth. I bit down hard on his hand, grinding my teeth until the salty taste of blood filled my mouth.
‘Perra!’ my assailant said as he pushed me to the ground and levelled a series of punches directly into my face. Tears blurred my vision as pain blossomed from every part of me. More salty blood in my mouth, mine this time. I cried out again as he stood and sent more blistering kicks into my side, stomach, and back.
Through bleary eyes, I saw him stand and pick up my bag.
‘No,’ I tried to scream, the words barely a whisper as pain radiated through me. Everything I owned in the world was in that bag. Everything.
He spat at me, a wet globule running down my chest as I struggled to get up. I couldn’t. It hurt too much.
Footsteps rang out as he left the alley he’d thrown me into. Blackness claimed me as I gave into the pain, welcoming the dark to block it all out.
EIGHT
