“Get out of my way,” he barked.
Lucy sniffed in a breath and crouched behind a group of ladies who were debating with a seller in a fast, punchy language she assumed was Chinese. The killer glided past her and as soon as his head turned the other way, she crept backwards. Staying low, she walked with bent knees until she reached a crowded shop entrance. She quietly squeezed through and pressed herself against the wall, watching through the glass door.
No one seemed to notice her, they were all too busy talking to each other over bowls of divine smelling soup. The tinge of spices and curry wafted up her nostrils, making her stomach cramp. She pushed her fist into her abdomen, begging it not to make a sound.
She spotted a wave of blond hair and her stomach shrunk back into a tight knot.
The tall man’s head swiveled over the crowd as he hunted her down. She stayed still not daring to breathe as his eyes skimmed the store entrance. The virulent fury in his expression was enough to melt her innards, but she managed to keep her legs upright. It was the longest five minutes the world had ever known as he scrutinized the crowd around him, but eventually he let out a string of curses and roughly shoved his way forward.
As soon as he was gone, she ducked back into the traffic and carefully worked her way in the opposite direction. She needed a place to hide and regather herself. Somewhere safe where no one would find her.
She also needed her stuff. Did she risk going back to their apartment?
No, she couldn’t. What if he returned while she was there? She doubted he’d let her jump through any more windows. She winced, the thought bringing all her aches and pains to the forefront.
She needed to check out her wounds and fast. The ache in her side could easily be a cracked rib from landing on that dumpster, not to mention her throbbing calf muscle and the mammoth size bruise no doubt forming on her hip. Her clothes were cut and bloodied. If she didn’t remedy the situation fast, she’d stand out and someone would tell someone. That cop may not have been able to find her before, but he sure as hell would in San Francisco. She sensed it was his home turf. He must have moved from L.A. sometime in the last five years. The irony that she’d moved to the same place was crushing.
She ducked into an alley and snuck behind a row of trash cans. Crouching low, she rested her head against the wall and did a quick assessment. She had her ipod and her clothes. That was going to get her squat. She needed to get out of this city and for that she needed money. Even a cab fare across the Golden Gate Bridge would cost a chunk. With a heavy sigh, she stepped back into the human traffic, bumping into the man in front of her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, slipping his wallet into her jacket pocket as she wove through the crowd.
Back to it again. Shorty said the only way to beat this man was to live the life she wanted. What Shorty didn’t understand was that the life she craved was a pipe dream. The only way she was going to beat this killer was to stay alive and not let him catch her.
Chapter 31
ZACH
May 2014
As soon as the final bell rang, I dashed to my car. I’d given Dani enough time to cool down. I ignored Jaeda’s call as I ran past my group. This would only fuel their anger, but I needed to see Dani, to reassure her that I was there for her and would do anything to help her. Surely she would understand that.
I drove to her place in agitated silence, wondering what kind of mood she’d be in when I arrived. Parking a block away, I made sure the coast was clear before slipping behind the old apartment building and wiggling the board free. It was eerily quiet inside the abandoned building.
Clearing my throat, I lightly ran across the room and took the stairs two at a time.
“Hey, Dani. It’s me.” I knocked on the door and listened against the wood.
Nothing.
“Dani, please can I come in?”
I turned the doorknob and pushed my shoulder into the wood. The door creaked open to an empty apartment. My stomach plummeted. The mattress was still there, but all the little things were gone — her clothes, the tatty novels, the knife and Leatherman. Anything that could easily be carried on Dani’s back had been stashed away and taken with her. I stepped further into the room, hoping that I was just seeing things.
I wasn’t.
The apartment was Dani-less.
She was gone.
“Damn it, Dani!” I knocked the chair over and kicked it with my shoe.
What the hell?
She just ran away! Show’s how much I meant to her, I guess.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and cursed a few more times, wanting to rip my hair out. I had no idea where she’d gone and I had no way of finding her.
The only way I’d see her again was if she came back to me.
I slumped onto the mattress, pressing my head into the palms of my hands. Squeezing my eyes shut, I felt the burn of tears. Something I never expected.
She was gone.
And it was my fault.
The chances of her coming back were zero.
I’d pushed too hard. I’d broken my promise to her and she’d fled.
She’d trusted me with the truth and I’d blown it.
Anger still bubbled beneath my guilt. She’d said she didn’t want to run anymore and I was annoyed that she didn’t have the courage to stand up and face this guy.
But what did it matter? Dani was gone and there was nothing I could do about it.
*****
In spite of the fact I knew she wouldn’t return, I still kept my eye out for her. I spent the weekend driving the streets near her abandoned building, just to make sure. When I caught up with Elliot on Sunday (who obviously felt sorry for me and managed to fit me into his busy schedule) and we walked into the center of town, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the people. I scanned each one, looking for Dani’s perfect nose and lips. I saw no one like her and my heart got tired with the effort.
On Monday, I could barely concentrate. I scoured every hallway for her, but nothing. I had to get it into my stupid skull that Dani was gone.
Throwing my bag on the ground, I slumped down next to my friends at the lunch table. I wouldn’t look at them, but could tell they were throwing each other worried glances.
“Zach, it’s been a week. I know you’re upset that she’s just up and left, but you can’t mope forever.” Jaeda’s quiet encouragement only made me feel worse. I could mope if I damn well wanted to.
Liesl squeezed my forearm. “If it’s any consolation, I miss her too. Wednesday dinner just wasn’t the same.”
“Mostly ‘cause you were so depressed,” Elliot muttered.
I shot him a venomous glare.
“You’re allowed to feel sad, man. We all knew how much you liked her.” AJ half smiled. “I’m really bummed she’s not coming to see me and Jae in the Spring Musical.”
I nodded. “Show’s tonight, right?”
“Second to last performance.”
Crap, I usually tried to get to all of them. I shot them a guilty smile. “I’ll be there tonight.” I wanted to add, I promise, but I couldn’t. I was quickly learning that life could knock me off my feet before I saw it coming. I didn’t want to promise anything anymore.
Thinking of Dani made me ache all over. Where had she run to? How was she surviving? Was she conning again, pretending to be something she’s not? She told me she hated that, that she’d always felt forced into it.
I was her out.
Why the hell did she leave me?
My flash of anger died quickly. The reasons why she left didn’t matter. I was worried about her. Scared she’d get into some situation she couldn’t handle. We had been her safety net and she jumped straight out of it.
Why?
To protect me maybe?
Damn, I felt like scum. I should have just kept my mouth shut.
Elliot slapped my shoulder, bringing me back to the conversation. “You know it’s probably for the best, man. You didn’t know her that well.”
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shrugged, picking at the table. Jaeda placed an apple next to my hand, but all I could see was Dani’s longer fingers feeding me a piece. The image stole my hunger. I shook my head and passed it back to her.
“We’re friends, man. We want to help you.”
“Really?” I snapped at Elliot. “So you going off at me because I was spending too much time with Dani was helpful? Is that it? You’re happy she’s gone, aren’t you?”
Elliot shifted in his seat. “I don’t like that you’re so upset about it, but yeah. I mean she was messing with you…with all of us. She was a liar, Zach. You can’t deny that.”
“She had her reasons.”
“What were they?”
“You know what!” I slammed the table. “I don’t have to explain her to you or anybody. She trusted me to keep her secrets and I did, because I care about her. I’ve never felt this way about a girl before.”
Elliot opened his mouth to speak, but I raised my finger.
“And don’t tell me about my past girlfriends, because I know. Dani was different. And now she’s gone and I can’t get her back! And I hate it!” I pressed my fists into the table. “And you sitting there telling me it’s a good thing is not helping. You guys just don’t get it.”
“So help us to understand then.” Elliot’s terse reply messed with my hackles. They shot up, making me stand and grab my bag.
“Forget it. You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
I walked away and didn’t look back.
There was no way I was admitting to them that the girl I had fallen for was a con artist. They’d roll their eyes and tell me that love was blind, that she’d played me and her departure was a saving grace. I’d been saved from further torment.
But I hadn’t. Her leaving had thrown me into the biggest torment I’d ever known and the worst part was, I knew I’d just have to learn to live with it.
Chapter 32
LUCY
February 2014
Lucy opened her eyes with a gasp and shivered. Nightmares still plagued her, images of bloodied faces and lifeless eyes. The dreams always ended with a pair of pale green orbs boring into her, reminding her that it was only a matter of time.
She pulled in a sharp breath and rubbed her eyes, reminding herself it was a new day. She was alive and right this second, he didn’t know where she was.
The sun filtered through the forest, but didn’t provide the warmth she needed. It had been a cold night. It didn’t help that she was battling a runny nose and aching throat either. Rolling over with a groan, she forced herself to sit. It had been eight weeks and her ribs were still a little tender. The rest of her wounds had healed nicely, although she had a gruesome scar on her calf muscle that probably should have had stitches. The wound was red, but not infected. She’d been checking it daily.
As soon as she’d gathered enough wallets from Chinatown, she’d bought first aid supplies. She chickened out on her plan to catch a cab and instead holed up in a public bathroom for the night. She’d tended her wounds and got cleaned up as best she could. The next day she snuck into a small second hand store and bought a few items of clothing. The pants were a little too tight and the sweater was enormous, but it didn’t matter. They were clean. She also bought a 49ers cap and once it was shoved low over her head, she’d made her way out of San Francisco. It had been a stressful day. Her eyes had darted from one moving car to the next, worried it was him. Worried he’d still be looking for her. She’d stepped onto the Golden Gate Bridge and hustled across it. By the time she reached the other side, she was exhausted, but fear pushed her forward. She collapsed sometime after dark, under a lonely picnic table off the side of the road.
The days to follow had been an isolated, soul shattering slog. The only thing that kept her moving forward was the idea that her killer might be just behind her, still hunting, still determined to finish off the Tate family in style.
She’d worked her way north-east of San Francisco, snatching and stealing as she went. It was enough to buy her a little food, but she quickly grew tired of the stressful game. One day she veered into a national park and that’s where she’d been ever since. Sleeping under bushes, spending the day in the trees so no one would see her. She’d pilfered food from campsites, nicked water canteens and managed to stave off two animal attacks using a knife she’d stolen. She was getting quite good at throwing it.
Blowing on her cold hands and rubbing them together, Lucy checked the watch she’d stolen.
06:12 AM.
FEB 8
She needed to get some food in—
Her breath caught. She looked back at the date and sniffed, a sad smile fluttering over her lips. “Happy Birthday, Lucy.”
Eighteen. Wow. This was never how she pictured her 18th birthday. She should have been waking up to her mother’s out of tune version of Happy Birthday. She should have skipped down the stairs and straight into her father’s embrace. He would have kissed her cheek and told her he was proud of her, that she’d grown up to be a beautiful woman.
They would have been discussing college applications as she worked through her last semester of high school. Maybe she would have had a boyfriend and been hoping he’d ask her to prom later in the year. Maybe she’d be going dress shopping with Maria.
Maria.
What was she up to now?
Tears swelled in her eyes as she pictured her best friend from so many years ago.
Had she cried for Lucy? Did she remember her middle school friend at all?
And Patrick De Luca.
Lucy closed her eyes and sighed.
He was probably still gorgeous.
She never did get that kiss. No, her first kiss had been a practice with Marlin before sloppy Howard gave it a go, his awkward hands groping her ass.
Would she ever get a real kiss?
One that made her insides sing the way she knew Patrick’s would have?
Would she ever get to feel the euphoria of falling in love?
A cry spilled from her mouth, spittle lining her lips as she covered her eyes and quietly sobbed.
She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. The questions…the memories…were killing her. If she even let her mind wander near Marlin or Shorty she found it hard to breathe. Last time she ran free with her memories, she couldn’t move for a day. She became trapped in a sombre, catatonic state. If a family hadn’t walked right past her hiding place, she’d probably still be playing statue, but their chatter had scared her, making her scamper away like a rabbit.
She was good at running.
That’s all she seemed capable of.
Running.
Except she hadn’t been able to leave the park. It was too hard to imagine joining the world again…and on her own too. Who would talk her through a con? How could she possibly survive without someone to protect her?
If she went out into the real world again it wouldn’t take long for death to catch up to her.
Pressing her aching head into the rough trunk behind her, she actually found the thought appealing.
Death.
It would be an end.
A relief.
But Shorty would be pissed. He’d asked her to live. To make it. To beat him.
“You can’t let that bastard win, Lucy,” she whispered. “It’s your freaking birthday and you’re huddled up against the trunk of a tree.”
She closed her weary eyes with a sigh and sniffed.
Rubbing a grimy hand over her face, she nibbled on her lip. “I don’t know if I can keep going.”
Her lips trembled and then a thought flickered through her mind.
What do you want?
She’d never let herself answer that question, because she’d always said she had no choice. But she did. She was all alone now. No-one could demand anything from her. She wasn’t working for anyone. She was he
r own boss and if she really thought about it, she probably had everything she needed to succeed. Shorty had taught her the art of conning. As much as she hated working for him, he’d gifted her the ability to survive…and Marlin had believed in her.
“You can keep going.” Her raspy voice grew with confidence. “You just need a plan.”
She’d been too exhausted to form one, but damn it, it was her 18th birthday and she needed a freaking plan!
She rubbed a dirty finger over her bottom lip as her brain ignited for the first time in weeks.
What did she want?
An education. A college degree. The chance to earn money the honest way. She wanted to start afresh somewhere. Somewhere safe. She wanted a life where no one around her would be in danger…which meant she had to get out of California.
“Mexico.” Isn’t that where criminals always escaped to? She just needed to make it to the border and she’d be home free. She could find some little bungalow on a gorgeous beach. She imagined waking up in the morning to the sound of the ocean, the taste of salt on her tongue. She imagined running through the surf. Maybe she’d finally overcome her fear of water and learn how to surf.
“You need to start swimming again. Give yourself options, Lucy.”
She tipped her head, picking up a loose stick at her feet and digging it into the ground beside her.
“You need money to get to Mexico.”
She could do one last con, score herself enough money to hit the road and never look back. She’d have to be careful. If the killer was still looking for her, he could track her at a school, but she could give herself a new name.
I Know Lucy (The Fugitive Series) Page 20