And that was what Ivan brought me. A peace offering.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I hissed at my reflection. There was no way in hell I was looking with kindness on the gesture. Such a crafty, sly fox. Ivan was for all intents and purposes our kidnapper. He was holding us here against our wills—even if Brady didn’t know it. One book, one seemingly kind thought, was not going to make me melt, not one small bit, for this man.
The sooner we left, the better.
I only wish I felt better.
Slipping into the night was hard. Forcing myself to hold my child and wander over the cracked alley of the neighbor was harder. Feeling like I had to sneeze was worse.
I paused, clenched my nostrils together, and sneezed without much sound. My ribs felt like they were going to break. I shifted the drowsy Brady to my other hip as a muffled “Bless you” yawned from his mouth.
I reminded him of our game. “Shush, no talking, remember.”
He nodded into the crook of my neck and readjusted his hold.
I didn’t want to think about the fact that I was running for the second time in my life from the criminal underworld. Only this time, there was no cottage in a quaint small town to flee to and a community where my extended family laid down roots to welcome me into the fold.
I refused to think about that. I could worry about finding fake IDs and income when we settled.
Right now, it was all I could do to carry Brady across the poorly lit street and into the next alley, praying there was a car somewhere I could hotwire.
Thank heavens I had rancher cousins who knew everything about vehicles and showed me when there was nothing better to do one winter.
The alley stretched into darkness, swallowing any light. I stepped into its shelter, knowing the shadows hid our escape better than any cloak. They laced grotesque patterns on the ground. Their phantom fingers wriggled in delight, a frenzied invitation to stay here, in the dark, and discover their secrets. But that wasn’t the object of my quest, and furthermore, I would never pay their ghastly price to disappear into their embrace. We were merely refugees, utilizing their hallowed ground as a safe passageway.
I clutched Brady tighter on instinct, forcing my sandals to tread lightly. But no matter how carefully I stepped, the footsteps seemed to reverberate off the ground, giving us away.
My throat burned with the rush of each fast breath. The sticky night air seemed to clog on its way to fill my lungs, and I gasped more than once.
“Mama,” Brady whispered.
“Hush, love, just a bit longer and you’ll win the silent game,” I murmured.
“But I don’t like it here,” he protested.
Me neither, baby. Me neither.
We had to leave. It wasn’t the dark I feared. The men who inhabited these parts were far more dangerous than any figment of the imagination.
There it was. An older sedan, non-descript and without modern anti-theft devices. I crept to the yard where it was parked, hoping no dogs were around to raise the alarm.
I slid the screwdriver from my pocket and rammed it in the lock. It was unnaturally loud in the buzz of the night, but it was far better than smashing the window. Jimmying the tool, I forced the lock to break after a tremendous effort.
Then it was just a matter of sliding into the seat, pushing Brady onto the center console, and reaching under the wheel.
The night was still eerie around us. But no shadows danced. They only shivered when touched by the slight wind’s mischievous tickle.
I couldn’t see a damn thing. Biting my lip, I risked the flashlight. My heartbeat was a war drum. It pounded in my ears.
“It smells in here,” Brady complained.
My stuffy nose and the rush of adrenaline blocked whatever he was inhaling. “I’ll fix that in a minute or two.”
The wires weren’t the same as I remembered. It took a try. And then another.
I slid the plastic a little farther down the length, pressing and praying. When Penelope helped me escape the underworld, it was just a matter of turning the key and leaving town. My fingers shook, working the wires. When a telltale spark flickered, a tiny bead in the pool of light, I nearly fainted from relief.
Bless those country cousins!
