A patrolling guard barely glanced at me when I passed him on my way to the gate, a small bag slung over my shoulder. The guards usually paid me more attention, but this one seemed distracted by his phone.
Pressure built behind my eyes, dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm me as I trudged down the gravel path, staying close to the tall yew hedges.
I kept watching for more of Declan’s guards but saw none.
Rain fell. Light at first and then heavier, drenching my hair and soaking through the denim jacket I'd grabbed on my way out. A stiff wind picked up, cutting me to the bone. The sooner I was away from this place, the better.
The guard on gate duty wasn't familiar to me. He frowned.
"Nobody's supposed to leave, miss," he said reaching for me before his comms ear-piece sparked to life. I froze. Had someone spotted me leaving?
As I hovered, a parcel delivery van approached. The guard’s focus switched from me to the van. He opened the pedestrian access gate to talk to the driver, allowing me to slip past.
"Hey! Wait!" he yelled when he realized I’d escaped, but I ignored him. A silver car drove down the lane and I quickly scanned the license plate, exhaling in relief when I realized it was my Uber.
I jumped into the car's back seat.
"Let's go!" If he called Declan, more men would come running. I stared back through the rear window as we pulled away, but the guard was too busy gesticulating at the delivery driver to chase me.
I switched my phone off, removed the SIM, and pushed it down between the seat cushions. If anyone tried tracking the phone, they could have fun chasing after the Uber driver once he dropped me off at the bus station.
The lady on the airline ticket desk looked concerned at my bedraggled appearance. After a sleepless night on a series of rickety buses, I knew I looked like shit, but I hadn't wanted to waste money on a hotel room.
The cash I had on me was enough to pay for a cheap flight and a room when I arrived. After that, I'd need to find a job fast.
Calling my old boss at Lorenzo's Bar in Naples wasn't an option. Apart from the fact I'd disappeared without warning and left the bar in a mess because of what happened with Anton, I didn't want to risk Anton finding me.
"I can sell you a ticket on the next flight to Catania, changing at London Heathrow."
"I'll take it." Going back to Italy was potentially dangerous, but there had been no sign of my father since he walked out of prison, so it seemed like a risk worth taking. I had nowhere else to go on my budget, and a girl I'd met in Italy previously was working in a small hotel in Catania. I hoped she might help me get a job so I could afford a flight to Thailand.
Beyond that, I was all out of ideas.
I didn’t dare call Thea. It was time I took care of myself instead of relying on other people to run my life.
Living anonymously would be safer than staying with the Kellys. With Declan fighting against a rival family, even I could see that remaining with the Kellys was dangerous. Yes, Ronan and Conal had fed me a bunch of bullshit about protecting me, but they were part of the problem. If I stuck around, they'd use me and then cast me aside in favor of someone new.
"Have a safe trip." The woman at the airline desk offered me a smile as she printed out my boarding pass.
My flight left in an hour, so I had just enough time to go through security before boarding the plane. I used the passport Kyril gave me last year as a safety net if I didn't want anyone following me. Thankfully, it had been in a hidden pocket in my bag the night I left Naples. Otherwise, I'd have been forced to use the one with my actual name, which the twins had picked up from my old apartment.
Kyril could be an overbearing and grumpy asshole sometimes, but he always had my back. Once I turned 18 and could travel independently, he'd made sure I had a spare set of travel documents in a different name. For emergencies.
Well, this definitely classed as an emergency.
No doubt Kyril would guess what I'd done when Thea got the news about my departure, but it would give me some time to figure out my next steps before she sent Dario or Kyril after me.
Or worse, Ronan and Conal.
Those two could go fuck themselves.
33
Ronan
The man zip-tied to the metal chair conveniently placed over a drain groaned. We'd been at this for hours and he still refused to give me any useful information. I suspected he knew fuck all.
Most people caved when I got the acetylene torch out, but this fucker had done nothing but repeat the same useless shite.
