My chest felt tight and it was hard to draw breath.
If you don’t go, they will kill him.
I typed back:
‘Where are you?’
“Get away from Ethan first and then we will let you know.”
“Everything okay?” I could feel his gaze on the side of my face.
“Fine, Georgie’s having boy problems,” I said weakly, clutching my phone by my side to hide my trembling hands. “I need to use the restroom, could you pull into the café please.”
He studied my face and frowned. We had just left a café. He would wonder why I hadn’t used the one there.
He knows I’m lying. He can hear my heart. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe.
My heart rate steadied. I waited for him to ask to see my phone, to question me some more. I scrambled for a way to pull myself out should he ask.
When he spoke, his words were quiet and pained, “I have made mistakes, Amy. It’s hard to control the urges. I keep having to constantly remind myself who I am, who I want to be.” He paused, his throat clicking as he swallowed.
His words cracked my heart. He thought my change in mood was because of his admission. Every part of me wanted to deny it was the cause, to tell him it was okay. But BJ needed me. I couldn’t fail him, no matter the cost.
I nodded.
Ethan pulled up outside the café in town. The toilets were located down the laneway. If he stayed in the car he wouldn’t seeme go out the back to the parking lot behind. What I’d do after I got out there, I didn’t know. The car that was following pulled in a few parks ahead.
“I won’t be long, wait here,” I said, avoiding eye contact. I clicked the door shut and walked toward the café. It took all my willpower to maintain a normal pace and not run. I kept my head low, not wanting to look at anyone, fighting the urge to cry. My limbs felt numb and each step seemed almost robotic. I moved up the narrow, bricked laneway. Past tables of diners drinking coffee, eating, and chatting.
I stopped at the restroom doors, I held my hand against it as if I were about to go in. I glanced back to make sure Ethan wasn’t out of his car watching. He wasn’t. I would have five minutes, I judged, before he came looking. I looked at my watch; it was 2:16 p.m.
I turned heel and ran as fast as I could to the parking lot behind. I stopped and scanned the carpark. Under a sprawling tree at the back of the parking lot, veiled by shadow, were a man and a woman. They were too far away and their faces too cloaked in darkness to make out any details. Both were dressed in black. He wore a cap, she wore a hoodie.
They were watching me. Shudders crept across my skin. A cab dropped someone off about twenty metres away to my left. It started pulling away.
I couldn’t yell out, Ethan might hear me. I ran as fast as I could, waved my arms madly behind him, prayed he caught sight of me in the rear-view mirror. The brake lights came on. I leapt in the front seat, out of breath. The cab driver was older, with short gray hair. I began to wonder was he one of them, it was too easy, too convenient to get away. I stared suspiciously at him.
“Where to love?” he asked, kindly enough. He looked like he could be someone’s grandad. He wore a silver wedding ring on his finger; he was someone’s husband at least.
“Just drive, please. I have directions coming through,” I squeaked out. I couldn’t stop shaking. I glanced at the man and woman. They tilted their faces away as we drove past. She was on the phone.
I stared at my phone clutched tightly between my thighs to stop my hands shaking. It was 2:18 p.m. I’d have three minutes, give or take, before Ethan came looking.
“Left or right, love?” He stopped at the edge of the parking lot.
“Right.”
He pulled right. I’d take the back streets, out of sight, before getting back to the main road.
The phone vibrated:
“Cable Lane. Stop on the highway, walk in.”
“Cable Lane, could you drive as quickly as you can please.”
The cab driver glanced at my arms. They were covered in red marks and early signs of bruising. He frowned, large indents traversed across his forehead, mini versions settled in the corners of his eyes. “You okay, love?”
“Fine,” I said weakly.
