Another pause. Then softer—still rough, but different, “Little Laynie?”
“Well, not that little anymore…” I mumble.
“What do ya need?”
I breathe a sigh of relief and tell him what I need.
A few minutes later, I've booked two tickets and made an appointment to pick up the fake passports. I locate my overnight bag and gather clothes for Rebel and myself. I stuff as much as I can into the bag. Everything else can wait; I can’t even think about that right now.
I put Rebel’s jeans in the bag and think about Kyler. My heart aches. Paxton is right, but this time I’m doing it to keep the club safe. They shouldn’t have to pay for Connor’s mistakes. He can always come live with us if he really wants to. It’s not like I’m turning my back on him. I was truly hoping we could try and make this work.
My eyes are burning. Shit. Quickly, tears begin to fall down my cheeks, and before I know it, I’m overcome with loud, wracking sobs.
Why won’t anyone tell me what Rebel and I are getting ourselves into? Not Connor, not Kyler. I have no fucking idea if what I’m doing is the right thing. Or if it makes any sense. If I’m actually running away from something dangerous or just from Paxton’s tirade.
I sit down at the edge of the bed and try to calm myself down. I frantically wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand. I need to make it crystal clear that I don’t want to leave him behind. That I’m doing this because I don’t see any other way out. For their safety.
In the living room, I pull open all the drawers of the cabinet until I find a piece of paper and a pen. Then I sit down on a bar stool at the kitchen counter and place it in front of me. I take a deep breath and then put the pen to the paper.
Kyler,
I stare at the blank page. How on earth am I going to write this down? My eyes fill with tears again, but miraculously I keepthem from falling.
I booked flights. I know what I promised and what I said to you. It was all true. It IS all true, and I want nothing more than to stay here. Nothing more than to give us a chance.
But it’s crystal clear that I’m putting you in danger. I have no idea what’s going on ‘cause nobody’s telling me shit, but I can feel that something’s off. So I bought plane tickets for Rebel and me. We’re leaving. We’ve gotta get out of here. It’s for everyone’s safety.
I wrote your number down and brought it with me. I left my phone behind ‘cause I don’t want them to be able to find me. Once we’re safe, I’ll get a new one and let you know where we are.
I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening to any of you because of me.
I love you. I always have and always will, and maybe…
I wipe my nose with my sleeve.
… we get the chance some day.
Love, Layne.
I take my phone out of my pocket, turn it off, and place it next to the letter. Then I grab my bag, put on my coat, and step out onto the landing. From there, I can see the whole compound. Outside is a truck, and I desperately hope the keys are in it. I glance at my watch. Rebel will be done with school in half an hour, but I have to beat Brooks there. That means I’ve got to go now. I scan the compound one more time. No one’s around.
I descend the stairs as calmly and normally as possible. My heart is pounding in my throat, even though this is exactly what I intend to do. I’m consumed by a single, terrifying thought: what will I say if they discover me?
The cameras are focused on the entrance gate, preventing them from immediately seeing me walk here.
I take a deep breath as I place my fingers on the door handle and carefully try to open the truck. Miraculously, it works. I cringe when I hear a squeaking sound coming from the hinges.My eyes go to the ignition, and there are the keys. Long live the sense of security that comes with being part of a motorcycle club.
A sigh of relief passes my lips and I throw my bag on the passenger seat. Then I climb into the driver’s seat. My heart’s still racing. I grip the steering wheel tightly. My palms are sweaty. Thank fuck for whoever owns this thing and left the keys in the truck.
Now it’s getting serious. I close the door and turn the key in one swift movement.
The engine roars to life. Even though I knew this was going to happen, a shiver of fear runs through me. With trembling fingers, I grab the gear stick and put it in first.
That’s when the bar door swings open.
Without looking to see who’s coming out, I floor it.
“Layne, stop!”
