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They come up and look around, miss seeing me at first.
The train rumbles in and the doors open. I move too fast, catching their attention, and they dash over to get in the same car as me. I start running toward the end of the car, watching as they push through the throng of people to get to me. The moment the doors start to close, I leap back out.
One of them manages to get off to follow me. The other two point and shout through the window as the train speeds away.
My chest is tight from the running, and my heartbeat’s out of control.
I stare at the guy who got off, and he stares back at me. It’s just one guy. I could probably take him. He’s not so brave without his friends. Of course, I might have to kill him like I did the hitman in the flower shop. And we’re in a public place, which means I’d go down for it.
I’d go down hard.
I remember Hannah.
She’s the reason I ran in the first place. To draw them away from her.
She’s the reason I didn’t risk it. And she’s waiting for me now.
I take off, racing down the steps two at a time and jumping the last four. I just have to lose this guy and get to Hannah. I can do this, even though my lungs already feel like they want to give out.
I tear down the streets. I think the gang member is following, but I push into a crowd and lose him.
I run eight blocks until I spot the van. I look around first. No way I’m going to let anyone see me get in it if I’m still being tailed. Hannah’s behind the wheel, and she starts it up as she sees me coming. It looks clear. I jump in and slam the door.
“Drive, Flowers. Fast as you can.”
She nods, nostrils flared, eyes wide. Her hands grip the steering wheel in a strangle-hold.
As we tear off down the street, I catch sight of the guy.
And I’m pretty sure he sees me, too. He sees the van. He fucking sees Hannah.
“Fuck!” I explode, slamming my palm down on the dashboard.
Hannah jumps. “What?”
I shake my head. I don’t want to tell her—she’s already scared enough. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it,” I promise, even though I have no fucking clue how I’m going to do that.
All I know is no one’s going to fuck with Hannah. And I’m going to make sure I stay alive to keep that promise.
Chapter Seventeen
Hannah
My heart pounds the whole trip back to the apartment. Armando makes it worse by not saying a word, yet his body is a live wire, filling the van with tension that chokes me.
It’s not mine, I remind myself, remembering how the anxiety I’d felt around Josie had actually been hers. It’s not mine. It’s his.
Still, the man I care deeply about, despite my desire not to, is being hunted down like prey, so dismissing the tension is impossible.
“Who’s after you, Armando? Why?” I know I shouldn’t ask. He doesn’t talk business, but this is the second time I have felt like I could die. I have the right to know.
He rubs his face. “I killed a guy in prison. Self defense.” He shoots a dark glance at me like he’s worried about my reaction to his words.
I nod. I’m actually not shocked. I knew bad stuff had happened to him there.
”He was a member of a gang. Now they’re trying to kill me.”
No! a voice inside my head screams. Even though I knew someone was trying to kill Armando, hearing him explain it makes me want to rage for him. He’s a good guy. He has a moral compass. He follows a code. He’s been mixed up in dangerous business from a young age, but it isn’t his fault. He’s doing the best he can with what life dealt him.
And I really want life to give him a break for a change.
I find a parking place when my mom calls. I’m going there tomorrow for dinner, so I ignore it. As soon as it stops ringing, she calls again.
I throw the van in park and pick up.
“Hannah, it’s your dad,” she says in a tight voice. “I had to call an ambulance for him, and I’m following now.”
“What?” A sob chokes my voice. Could this day get any worse? “What happened?”
Armando goes rigid at the terror in my voice, his eyes intent on my face.
“He had a heart attack, but I kept up chest compressions until the paramedics got there. I think he’ll be okay, but we’ll have to see.”
“What hospital?” I manage to ask.
“Cook County.”
“Okay,” I choke out. “I’m coming now, too.”
“Thanks, baby. Call me when you get here.”
“What is it?” Armando demands the moment I end the call.
