After a couple minutes, he cleared his throat, then leaned toward me, his arms still braced on the table. “I was able to get you guys set up in a loft above a bar not too far from here. Luckily, I have a buddy who’s out in California for a couple weeks, said it’d be cool if you crashed there for the time being. It’s not big, but it’s furnished and it’ll be better than everyone staying here.”
Nodding, I said, “That’s good. We’ll head over there after sunset.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “Listen, have you talked to her about any of this?” he asked, inclining his head toward where Evie and Madison were.
“No. She tried to tell me a bit outside, but I stopped her. Figured I didn’t need to know.” I didn’t think I needed to go into all the details with him of why I didn’t need to know—namely, so I could still keep my head in the fucking game. I didn’t need to give him any more reasons to see me as incompetent enough to warrant his babysitting.
Too bad Gage shot my reasoning all to hell.
“You need to know. You’re in this now, whether you like it or not. She never told me or Aaron the details of why she needed to disappear—we all thought it’d be better the less we knew. So I don’t know what she’s dealing with, what Max has on her, but you know if it was enough to send her running, it’s some serious shit. And you also know he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.” He fixed me with a hard stare, his eyes serious and grave. “Or until she’s dead.”
EVIE
We left Gage and Madison’s place under the cover of night, wanting whatever protection the darkness provided. Neither Gage nor Riley had reason to suspect anyone knew where they were—Aaron and Riley had been the only ones in the whole operation to know where Gage had gone to when he’d left after the situation with Madison—but we wanted to take all precautions.
The loft Gage had gotten for us was above a dive bar in an area that I would guess passed as their downtown, three parallel streets full of rows of brick and plaster buildings all lined up together. A couple bars and restaurants, a drugstore, a few boutiques, and a used bookstore among the mix.
We rumbled to a stop on Riley’s bike around the back of the building in a little alley. It was nothing like the alleys back home—home being Chicago or Minneapolis. It was dark back here, shadows breeding in every corner and behind the groupings of trash bins lined up along the walls, but it didn’t feel seedy or ominous.
It had been easy enough to transport the couple bags we’d gotten earlier in the day, Gage and Madison having gone out to get some necessities for us, since Riley had left with nothing, and I hadn’t brought much more than him.
Riley used the key Gage had given him to unlock the back door, which opened immediately to a looming staircase that allowed us to avoid the bar completely and go straight into the apartment. At the top of the stairs, Riley slid the key into the lock on another door, then pushed it open and held it for me, gesturing for me to go in ahead of him.
He was silent, just as he’d been much of the day. We’d spent most of it resting, me in Madison and Gage’s bedroom and Riley on the couch in their living room. I didn’t know how much sleep he’d been able to get, but I hadn’t gotten any, because whenever I’d closed my eyes, dozens of images flew at me—so many different memories from the past five years bombarding me, flashes and snippets of a life that didn’t feel like mine, but was.
A year or so after I moved to Minneapolis, I’d allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security. It had been long enough away from all the horror I’d faced in Chicago that I’d let myself relax. I’d been browsing at a used bookstore close to campus during a break between classes. A man had stood outside, pacing in front of the large window, shooting glances over his shoulder into the store. It’d felt like he was staring right at me. Right through me. I could still remember details about him—the bulk of his shoulders and the color of his shirt, the cut of his hair and how it shone under the sun, the sunglasses that had hidden his eyes from me.
Watching him watch me, I’d been certain that was it. Genevieve was no longer, and someone had finally come for Evie. I was going to go down amid dusty books and cracked spines. A cold sweat had broken out as I’d checked for any other exits, as I’d tried to find a way out, realizing I’d somehow let down my guard enough to be unaware there was no other exit. That if I wanted out, I’d have to walk right past this man whose gaze was boring right through me.
At that moment, I’d hated Genevieve. I’d hated the girl I’d transformed into, because in a few short months, I’d gotten complacent. I’d allowed myself to get comfortable in the lies I told, in the life I supposedly led. And I was going to pay for my oversight.
As I’d been contemplating what I could use as a weapon to get away, another girl who’d been browsing next to me had walked out with her purchases in hand, hooked an arm through the man’s, and headed across the street.
I’d stared out the window, my eyes trained to where they’d disappeared, shaken to my very core.
After that, I’d enrolled in every self-defense class I could find. I’d taken up kickboxing. I’d religiously carried mace with me wherever I went, no matter how innocuous. I’d made sure to take stock of my surroundings, to be aware of every nuance of a place, of the people around me … to be two steps ahead of everyone else.
Because despite all my precautions when I left Chicago, all the tales I wove of another life—a false life—I’d known all along this day would come.
I just never thought I’d have Riley on my side while I fought.
Thinking about how close I’d come to having to fend off Frankie by myself sent a shudder through me. Even though I’d gotten out of his grasp once before and I’d kept up on my self-defense, was diligent in taking as many classes as my schedule allowed, I wasn’t sure how I would’ve stood up against him now, especially in a surprise attack. Riley hadn’t even really been trying to restrain me, and he’d had me pressed against the wall in less than a minute. It made me realize that all the training I’d done hadn’t been enough. Not against the people I was running from.
The little sleep I’d gotten since Eric had left for London combined with my last twenty-four hours and the fact that I hadn’t been able to sleep today meant I was a zombie, but I didn’t see how rest was possibly on the horizon for me. Not with what we were facing.
I stepped around Riley and into the space that was going to be our home for the next who knew how long, glancing around as I shrugged out of my coat. It was clear a guy lived here normally, the furnishings minimal, decorations obsolete. It was a cool space, though, the walls exposed brick broken up only by huge, arching windows, the beams and ductwork visible in the open ceiling. It was one giant room, like a studio apartment, though a bit larger. Pillars broke up the space, separating the rooms as much as they could.
There was a queen bed in the back right corner, no headboard, just the mattress and box spring on a bed frame. A simple gray comforter covered it, two pillows tossed haphazardly toward the top of the bed by the wall. A dresser made out of worn wood stood next to it, one of the drawers off its track leaving a gaping hole at the top, and another drawer missing completely. A battered TV tray was on the other side of the bed, providing a makeshift nightstand, a digital clock atop it.
The living area was just to the right of the front door, the compact space housing a faded green couch that had seen better days, its back to the bed that sat directly behind it. A TV was stationed on a stand against the wall in front of the couch, just to the right of the front door.