There were too many security cameras now. Too many people ready to film you and post it online.
Even if I offed this guy, my chance of losing my own life to prison was high.
I had no choice but to try to outrun this guy, to lead him back to my neighborhood.
With that in mind, I turned and ran, trying to put as many people between us as quickly as possible, betting on him not opening fire without a clean shot. For the same reasons that I wouldn’t open fire on him: fear of consequences, of cameras, of prison.
Without the worry of putting Steph in danger, I took more chances. I wove in and out of traffic, ignoring the blare of horns, the curses shouted out of open windows.
Up and down several streets and alleys until I was so turned around that I had no idea where I was or where I was supposed to be going.
I paused in an alley, hands on my thighs, panting for breath.
I didn’t see him.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t right behind me.
Regardless, I needed to stop and catch my damn breath. I hadn’t run that hard since I stole food as a kid to keep myself fed when the fridge and cabinets had been empty for days.
My lungs burned.
And I had a stitch in my side that felt like being stabbed over and over again.
As soon as I could catch my breath, though, I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts, and starting to make calls.
Lorenzo, Cosimo, Elian, Miko.
No one was answering.
And there was a rule in the Family about not leaving messages or sending texts with any information.
“Fuck,” I sighed when my next round of calls also went straight to voicemail.
Someone would call back eventually. They had to. People were just busy this time of year. And it was getting late. Some of them might have even gone to bed already.
I moved out of the alley, glancing side to side, scanning the faces for the guy.
One minute.
Two.
Five.
My stomach clenched.
What if he’d given up the chase not because he’d decided to just let me live, but because he noticed Steph was missing and figured she would be an easier target. And someone he could use to lure me out.
“Motherfucker,” I snarled loud enough to make a passing group of teens jump and one square up at me.
I moved past them and ran to check the closest subway map. It would almost certainly be faster than a cab, especially heading back into a more congested area like where Stephanie lived.
Fuck, fuck,fuck.
I ran up a couple more blocks to get to the right platform, then flew into the train by the skin of my damn teeth.
I paced in the train, hands opening and closing, feeling fucking powerless. I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t…
I reached for my phone, cursing myself for not thinking of it sooner.
