Page 66 of Cato

My thighs felt like they were wobbling from the adrenaline as I flew behind a line of dumpsters before emerging on the street where my car was parked, hidden slightly behind a big van.

I felt tears sting my eyes as I neared it, even as I heard raised, angry male voices, likely spreading out to try to find me.

I bleeped my locks, hauled myself in, turned the engine, and fucking floored it.

I was a blur in seconds, too fast for anyone to make out the license plate or even the model of my car. Not that the plate mattered. I always had a dummy one on it just in case.

I knew speeding was a bad move in a party town teeming with police, but my entire body was starting to tremble, and I was worried I would lose complete control of myself before I was safely away.

“Focus, focus,” I told myself, blinking the useless tears out of my eyes as I weaved in and out of traffic, up and down streets, trying to make sure I had no tail, but cutting it shorter than I normally would have when the shaking started to become almost violent.

I parked around the corner from work, pausing just to pull off the dummy plates, then rushing on unsteady legs toward the office, unlocking it, moving inside, locking the door again, then collapsing down on the floor just inside the entrance.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I hissed, pressing the heels of my filthy hands to my eyes. Like the pressure alone could keep the wetness in. But it was useless. The tears flowed down my cheeks as I curled into myself, ignoring the pain it caused, hugging my legs to my chest, trying to hold myself together as my nervous system seemed bent on falling apart.

I couldn’t tell you how long I sat there, shaking, crying, completely losing my shit.

But, eventually, I climbed my ass back up off that floor, took myself into the bathroom where I finally got a look at myself.

The makeup was smeared all over my face.

But as I carefully removed that, I could see the beginnings of the bruises. On my jaw, cheek, a big ring around my eye.

And my throat.

The outline of a man’s fingers was forming.

I dapped a little antiseptic spray on my lip that had a small split, then got to work removing the tattoo covering makeup from my arms, so I could clean the wounds on them and my legs from the jagged metal of the air duct.

Then and only then did I go back out into the office, finding my phone in my bag, and texting a Josie I know was sitting at home, worried sick.

I didn’t lie to her.

I didn’t say it went well.

I just gave her all I could.

It’s done.

Then I went home to nurse my wounds in private. Where no one could see me.

Until, of course, there was a knock at my door the next evening.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Cato

I tried to tell myself I was only heading in that direction because I was in the area.

I mean, I was.

Levee wanted to go visit his nasty-ass uncle, and I’d come along for moral support. But as usual, the old man kicked me out, so I had time to myself while Levee dealt with the dickhead who would do nothing but berate Levee as he tried to help.

I mean, yeah, damnit, alright.

I’d only tagged along because it would put me in the area. And being in the area gave me an excuse to go drop in to see her at work without it seeming like I was fucking stalking her because she wasn’t answering me.

Since I hadn’t been doing much sleeping the night before, I’d managed to overthink myself into believing she was pushing me away, that she was trying to break shit off without having to actually do it.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com