Wasn’t I better to him dead now?
He’d told me the truth. I could easily go to the police, tell them what I’d found out, point them right at him.
He couldn’t let me do that.
Why not let some other guy do his dirty work for him?
“No, he won’t,” I said, inching around the mess, trying to get closer to the door, to freedom. “I’m better dead to him.”
“Bullshit,” he said, lunging just as I turned to run.
I slammed forward against the wall, my nose and lip crushing, the edge of a picture frame slicing my cheek.
I barely even registered the pain as panic surged through me.
No.
I had to focus.
Fight.
I whipped around, bringing my knee up as he charged at me, arms out, ready to grab me.
My aim was true, making the air rush out of him as he hinged forward in pain.
I didn’t stop to think.
I ran out of the apartment, down the hall, taking the steps so quickly that I risked falling to my death in my desperation to get away.
My heart was in a vice as I hit the street, the cold nipping at all my exposed skin as big, fat, lazy snowflakes drifted down to kiss my arms and chest.
I needed to do the smart thing. I had to call the police.
But it was pointless to do that until I got away, until I got somewhere safe.
Some part of me said to run to the closest person, to beg for help. But this was New York. The people here were accustomed to crazy people. Enough so that everyone just minded their business, didn’t get involved.
I needed to save myself.
I honestly didn’t have any direction in mind.
I just turned and ran blindly, my hand clutching the phone the whole way.
I had no idea if I was being followed, if someone was gaining on me. I didn’t dare look backward.
I’d lived in the area my entire life.
And I’d never once stepped foot in Central Park after dark.
But I found myself flying down one of the winding paths, moving past a set of unhoused men using cardboard to protect themselves and their precious belongings from the steadily falling snow.
Only some of the paths were lit up at night. Everyone knew that if you were going to be in Central Park at night, that youhadto stick to the lighted paths.
But that was exactly why I found myself turning away from them, heading off into the darkness.
I didn’t dare use my flashlight on my phone, not wanting to announce my position to the man who wanted to use me against Venezio. Or any other man up to no good in the park at night.
I rushed past skeletal trees as the snow fell steadily, blanketing the ground and making my slippers skid.
