Page 35 of The Strength Of A Woman

And rush.

I know it’s late.

They’re probably getting ready for dinner and asking around if anyone has seen me.

Holding my little purse against my chest, I try to compel myself to move.

I wish I could turn around and walk the other way. Away from this life. This town. The obligations in my family.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to walk away from everything?

Borrow a sweater from an old lady, spend the night in a cheap motel, and then go to a train station in the morning?

Hop on one, and ride it until I reach Rome. Lie about my name and history. Assume a different identity.

A bitter smile tugs at my lips. I probably wouldn’t make it outside Syracuse, let alone mainland Italy.

Someone would snatch me out of the crowd and bring me back.

I’ll never be free.

Struggling to push back my bitterness, I try to shake off that feeling and focus on the present moment.

I need to go back.

Move, Leilani. Move.

I finally snap out of my daze and look around the crowd, looking for a familiar face.

Maybe a man who is supposed to follow me.

One of his men.

All faces look the same to me. And he is no longer visible behind a wall of moving people.

I begin walking, head tilted down, eyes vacant.Bumping into people.

I apologize mechanically, not making eye contact, not keeping track of who is walking past me.

And then something makes me lift my gaze.

As I slide away, cutting my way through groups of people, an omnipresent face seems to be following me.

A strange sensation gnaws at my awareness, prompting me to pick up the pace.

Head on a swivel, I leave the crowds behind as quickly as possible to be able to tell if someone is following me.

If Callum has his men follow me, it’s hard to tell.

It’s even more difficult as the first shadows of the night creep onto the narrow streets.

I opt for a less-traveled path, one that takes me through areas with diminished human traffic and noise.

Choosing that could be good. It could also be bad.

The quieter the street, the spookier the feeling that I’m not alone. Glancing over my shoulder, I check the street.

Anyone could hide in one of those alleyways.