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As I’m considering it, I come to an abrupt halt right before I open the door. Shit. My necklace. It’s the one thing I wanted to take with me. The one thing I have from Judge. Indecision paralyzes me as I glance between the stairs and the clock. I don’t want to leave it behind. But I’ve already wasted three minutes, and my heart is beating so hard that I think I will miss this chance if I go back.
“I can’t.” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, trying to put it from my mind. “I can’t.”
I release a shaky breath and open the door, wrenching myself out of it. All three guards turn to look at me as I do, and I force a smile. There’s no point in not letting them see me. If I went through the side door, they’d be far more suspicious.
“What are you doing?” the guy in charge asks.
“I’m going to brush the horses,” I tell them without waiting for an answer.
Part of me is half expecting them to stop me, but as I walk on wooden legs, I hear them mutter something before returning to their conversation, something about another guard getting his mistress knocked up.
I suck in a breath and try to quicken my pace without being obvious, slipping into the stables and darting through to the other side. They can’t see the back side of the building, and I’m just praying Paolo isn’t already at his truck. I ease open the rear stable door as quietly as I can manage, and I hear Paolo whistling somewhere nearby. It makes me pause, but I can’t tell what direction it’s coming from.
Regardless, I decide I don’t have a choice. I’m going to risk it. I step out and shut the door behind me, eyeing Paolo’s truck a good twenty feet away. I don’t know if he’ll see me running to it, but when I hear him jangling his keys, I figure it’s now or never.
I dart from the stables to the truck as quietly as my legs can carry me. Luckily, I’m light on my feet, and Paolo doesn’t stop whistling, a good indication he’s in his own little world. Even so, I’m still convinced he’s going to figure it out as I fling myself up onto the bumper and into the truck bed. It creaks as I lower myself onto my hands and knees, and I curse when I hear Paolo’s whistling falter. There’s a long moment of silence, and then he grumbles something to himself. I peek through the back window to see he’s dropped his keys on the way over here, and I release a silent prayer as I quietly edge myself as far beneath the toolbox as I can manage. When I’ve done that, I wait, hoping against hope he doesn’t check the truck bed before he gets inside.
One minute passes. Then two. And then finally, I hear the telltale sound of him opening the door and climbing into the cab, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He fires up the engine, and the truck bed rattles against me as we roll forward over the unpaved earth.
I still feel like I can’t breathe as I count the seconds and wait for the guards to inevitably stop us. I’m so certain it’s going to happen that I have to suppress the urge to puke all over again. Every time I’ve tried to escape this place, something has dragged me back, and I’m convinced this time will be no different. But as I’m holding my breath, counting the tops of the trees that line the drive, the truck slows and then comes to a halt at what I know must be the gate. And I think this is it. I know there’s a guard out here too. He’s going to look. He’s going to capture me.
Instead, the gate whirs open, the truck rolls forward, and I realize with equal parts terror and relief that that didn’t happen. Paolo pulls onto the main roadway, and I fight the tears stinging my eyes as I wish for one last look at Judge’s estate.
My home.
That word reverberates through my skull until I pull myself together and open my phone. I shoot a text to Solana with trembling fingers, letting her know I’ve made it out. She’s already texted me a bunch of times, and I can see she’s been worried based on what she saw this afternoon.
Immediately, my phone vibrates with another flood of texts as I consider my next steps. I answer her in a daze, thinking through my plans. My condo will be the first place Judge looks for me, and I’m sure the guards will alert him soon enough when they figure out their mistake. But I have to go there to get the cash I’ve hidden, which is my only resource at this point. After that, I don’t know what. I just know I’ll have to leave this city. I’ll have to go far, far away and even then, they’ll probably never stop looking for me.
As I consider everything and everyone I’ll have to leave behind, an ache unlike any I’ve ever known spreads through my chest, icing my veins and freezing my heart. Solana’s name flashes across my screen again, but there isn’t time to read her message because Paolo’s truck comes to a stop, and he turns it off. I wait for a full minute, completely still as he gets out, slams the door, and walks away.
From the sound around us, I can tell we’re at the store. But I’m still not convinced if I pop up, there won’t be guards everywhere, ready to drag me back. Back to The Tribunal. Back to the consequences of my actions from a time I couldn’t know what I’d have to protect.
It’s that thought that drives me to move. To jump out of the truck and run. I run until my lungs burn and my muscles seize from the exertion. It takes me a few minutes to find my bearings, but once I’m on a main thoroughfare, I flag down a taxi and jump inside, rattling off the address to my condo.
The cabbie drives me in silence. All the while, my phone continues to vibrate in my lap, but I can’t look at it. I can’t do anything but drag in each breath and focus on the next. I do that until we get to the place I once thought of as my sanctuary. Now it feels like anything but.
“Can you wait here?” I pay the cabbie when he pulls to a stop. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“No can do,” he grumbles. “This was my last fare.”
I release a frustrated sigh when I check my pockets, but I only have a few more dollars on me. It’s not enough to tempt him to stay, and I’ll just have to figure something else out when I leave. With a muttered thanks, I slam the door behind me and run to my condo, snatching the spare key from beneath the potted plant. I’m acting on muscle memory as I unlock the door and dart inside without a second thought, only to come to a dead stop when my sandals crunch over broken glass. That’s when I realize with painstaking slowness that my condo has been trashed.
“What the—?” My words falter when a masked man steps out from the shadows and stalks toward me.
My first instinct is to scream, and as I pivot, he snatches me by the fabric of my dress, yanking me back against his body. He’s large and strong, and a combination of terror and weakness is making me too slow to react. To think. But still, I try to fight him as he hauls me toward the back door. I slam my foot down on his, and he grunts, his grip on me tightening as he whispers one sentence with such finality it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Stop fighting before you really get hurt.”
26
Judge
When I am released many hours later, Santiago is waiting by his car. I walk on wooden legs to meet him, each slow step an agony.
Pain. It’s all I can think right now. Pain.
And her.
