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I look at my driver and show him the address. "How far away?"
"We're exactly seven minutes out. You guys are not far at all."
If Romeo were here, he would remind me not to go in guns blazing.
I'll take my time. I'll examine the perimeter and find the easiest way to get in. These are no sitting ducks, but people well-trained in cartel life, so I fully anticipate a fight and an arsenal of weapons at the ready.
I grit my teeth and take out my wallet. “You said seven minutes? Can you make it in three?"
I’ll take my time when I get there, but I have to get there, and now. If by some chance that is Eden, I need to find where she is and make sure she’s okay. And if it isn't her… I need to find her.
The driver floors it. We take corners on two wheels and fly. We drive so quickly down the empty road, we make it there in two minutes, not three.
When he comes to a stop, I reach to open the door, but pause.
“Wait. Are you sure this is the right location?”
This was a gated community, but the gate’s hanging wide open. It’s clear from here that no one’s beyond those gates. No cars, no civilians, not even a stray dog.
I get out of the car and stare, disbelieving. It’s vacated.
They're gone.
* * *
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Eden
The painin my heart feels like someone's driving a knife through my flesh. I've never felt this way before, not even when I was back at the fellowship. Not when I thought there was no hope for me ever to be happy, not when I left my sister to go out into the big wide world and make money for both of us. I know why it hurts so badly now.
This time, I've lost hope.
They say that it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
I’m not sure I agree.
I sit on the same bus I took to Boston. It might even be the same driver. Beside me rests a small bag, containing all of my worldly possessions.
I hated not taking Daisy with me, but I knew it was best to leave her.
I left a note for Marialena, and one for Quinn.
Sergio. God, Sergio. How could you do this?
Maybe in his world, people say things they don’t mean. Maybe in his world, words like I love you are only a means to an end, and not the pinnacle of your heart’s desire.
I can’t help but fall back into my old ways, the mental torture of questioning everything I do. Everything I am.
You were stupid to think that he would ever love you.
You’re already married.
You don't deserve a man like Sergio.
You don't deserve anything.
I can almost hear him talking to me, telling me not to talk to myself this way. He never liked it when I got down on myself, and I have just barely started to learn how to love myself. To deny all the lies I was taught by the fellowship.
