I open my mouth to object, but come up short. Her suggestion, however simple, has merit. We found a discarded phone in the apartment, but that might not be the only one. After all, if a person has multiple IDs, why wouldn’t they have multiple phones?
“Even if she does have a phone so Sophie can reach her, how would that help us find her?” Ivan asks.
My gaze turns unfocused as my mind spirals with ideas. There has to be something there. If only I could… “Sophie’s stuff.” The idea crashes into my mind. “Her stuff has to be somewhere. You either took it when you kidnapped her, or it’s in her apartment. But her phone has to be somewhere.”
“She had her phone on her when we took her. I remember it falling out of her pocket while we placed her into the car, and Luka told me to pick it up.”
“That’s good. So it has to be somewhere, doesn’t it?” Hope blooms in my chest, a feeling I so desperately needed. “Did Luka keep it?”
“Fuck if I know,” Ivan responds. “But there’s a bag of stuff from his old office out in the storage room. We can check there.”
I’m out of the chair before he finishes the sentence. Three of us cram into the small storage room, digging through various bags. The clock is ticking. The longer it takes me to find her, the moredanger she’s in.
“Found it!” Nina exclaims, and I release a relieved breath.
“How do you know it’s hers?” Ivan asks.
“I don’t. I found it in a bag with a woman’s sweatshirt, so I took a wild guess.” She clicks the side of the phone, staring at the screen with anticipation. “It’s dead.” My stomach drops, but she’s already heading out of the tiny room. “Come on, I keep an extra charger in the office.”
She plugs the charger into the port, and the screen lights up, heating my insides. This is it. It has to be.
CHAPTER 29
Alex
Idrop my backpack on the bed of the motel I’ve just arrived at, feeling like I can finally breathe. The more I move around, the less chance there is that they are still following me.
Still, being out in the open terrifies me. There’s no doubt what Robbie would do if he found me again. He told me as much.
“Next time, I’ll fucking kill you,” he said, his low voice a stark contrast to the rage radiating from his eyes.
The ride to our apartment was filled with sudden turns, ones I was sure he took on purpose. I was positive I’d ripped a few stitches, but it was the least of my worries. Scars meant nothing if you were dead. And I was pretty sure I was as good as dead.
Robbie grabbed a beer from the fridge. I shivered in place, half-lying on the couch, my broken lip trembling. Crying was impossible with the swelling of my eyes, and it would’ve only made him angrier.
I took in the place I used to consider my home. The colorful throw pillows, the ones that had survived Robbie’s previous fits, adorned the beige couch that we’d picked out together. I remembered us strolling through the furniture store, pretending like everyshowroom was our own. We must have tried tens of couches before finding this one.
Robbie had liked me picking out the decorations. He had liked me taking care of our plants and cooking our meals. That was when we were happy.
I should have just run. Took the rest of the money I’d hidden and bought the first ticket out of the city. But I doubted the other passengers would appreciate the sight of the protruding bone in my arm or the blood I was coughing up. Also, the chances of surviving the trip without medical help were pretty slim.
I look around the dusty motel room, wondering how I got here again. There’s a musty smell present, so I crack the window to let it out. The walls have a yellowish tint to them, and the paint is chipped where they meet the carpeted floors. The bed linens look fairly clean, with the pungent scent of the detergent seeping into my nostrils. Small miracles, I guess.
My chest fills with a big inhale. It’s different this time. I have no injuries. I have a gun, and I have money, at least for now. He might have held power over me before, but I won’t let it happen again.
I repeat the same thing like a mantra, hoping to convince myself of it. Even though a part of me knows I’m in much better condition this time, Robbie is still Robbie. He also became deputy chief, and if he had the support of the police before, he has even better backing now.
The two cops who came to my hospital room after the young doctor reported my case were unfamiliar to me. They weren’t part of Robbie’s station, and they probably didn’t even know him. Still, it took them less than half a day to cover everything up, and share my location with the person responsible for my injuries.
There were days when I wished I had died in that hospital bed. I’m certain they would find a way to pin it on someone or something else, but I at least wanted them to work for it. I wanted them to face their actions and squirm as they tried to cover it up.Running away meant giving them peace, letting their lies run free. It also meant surviving.
My thoughts drift to Leon, a small fist squeezing my chest. I huff, realizing how abysmal my taste in men is. Robbie is an abuser. Leon is a criminal. It’s something that’s been bothering me ever since I found out about his ties to the mafia. As soon as the man in the club said it, it made perfect sense. The wealth, the businesses, the security — it all makes sense when you associate it with the mafia. But finding that out didn’t send chills down my spine. I wasn’t thinking about how he could have hurt me. I felt safe beside him. Safe enough to let him break my heart, apparently.
Moving the ancient curtains, I take a peek outside. It’s dark already. I must have lost track of time while stuck in my memories. This is my last night in the city. I was hoping these few extra days would make a difference in finding Sophie, but I couldn’t do anything while hiding out in random motel rooms. My cash stash is steadily depleting, and I can’t risk using my card while I’m here, not with Robbie knowing my new name. It’s time to start over. Get on a bus and leave. Get a fresh ID, a fresh life. The thought fills me with dread, but it’s my only option.
The lights of the gas station across the road flicker, and I realize I’m starving. Surviving on gas station food is torture on its own, but it’s better than going hungry. I throw on a hoodie and grab my purse before heading outside. I browse the aisles before filling a bag with junk food and buying a warm hot dog to go. My teeth bite into the bun as I step outside, and a ringtone makes me stop in my tracks. It’s coming from my purse. I’ve gotten rid of my main phone, which means it must be my other phone ringing. The one that only Sophie has the number to. Hot dog long forgotten, bag dropped to the floor, I dig through my purse and extract the phone. I don’t recognize the number on the screen, but it’s the least of my worries. My heart pumps faster as I press the phone to my ear. “Hello? Sophie?”
As my head lifts to the right, I notice a cop. His hat coversover half of his face, and his hand is on his hip, just right on top of his gun. It’s probably nothing, but every time I see a cop, fear blooms in my chest. I draw a shaky breath, glancing to the other side. My throat constricts as I realize there is another cop. There’s no doubt that this one is looking at me. A male voice breaks through the phone, but I can barely hear it. Blood roars in my ears. The phone drops to the floor as the voice repeats my name over and over again. I scramble to get my purse open and almost drop it, too. My eyes move frantically as the men close in on me. Their steps are slow, but I’m stuck in place, the task of opening my goddamn purse suddenly insurmountable.
