Page 70 of Vendetta

The cross street was wide with a center median planted with decorative shrubs. Businesses sprouted on either side of the road, closed for the night and mocking me as three motorcycles edged closer, breathing down my tailgate. I was out of options. I whipped the steering wheel to the left, barely making it through the intersection. Bertha groaned and shuddered across the pavement, and I punched it again. We flew past a sign for a twenty-four-hour veterinary clinic on the other side of the road. Making sure the motorcycles were still close behind, I wrenched the steering wheel again, slamming up onto the curb, through the thicket of brush, and down the other side. “Sorry, Bertha. It had to be done.”

Bertha’s turning radius was more like a boat than a car, but we flipped the U-turn more easily than expected. The angry street bikes stopped where I’d gone over the wide median, and I slammed the gas down. Seeing me pick up speed and unable to reasonably get their street bikes over the curb and through the ruined bushes, they raced down the road to the closest break in the median.

With some help from the thickening fog, as soon as they were a distance away, I turned off my lights and shot onto the side street where the vet clinic sign was. With a little luck, they wouldn’t realize I’d turned off.

My heart slammed against my ribs like an enraged beast as I pulled into the small parking lot and hid Bertha behind a dumpster.

I waited, listening as the whine of the motorcycles flew past and continued into the night.

Chapter 45

Rosalina

Holy fucking fuck. I did it.

They hadn’t noticed me turning onto the side street.

As the sound of their bikes disappeared into the darkness, I slipped out of the truck, wincing as my sore feet navigated the gravel parking lot. I tugged down the hem of the hoodie, trying to cover my state of undress. A bell jingled cheerfully as I pushed through the door, and the lady behind the counter’s smile faltered as she took in my disheveled appearance.

“Can I…” She hesitated, taking in my dirty feet and bare legs. “Help you?”

“I…uh. Can I use your phone? It’s been a hell of a day.” I tried to make light of the situation, but the furrow between her bushy gray brows grew. “Sorry, my name is Rosa. My abusive boyfriend stole my phone and is trying to find me. I need to call someone to pick me up.”

“Oh! Are you all right? Here. Let me get the sheriff down here. You just make yourself comfortable.” She picked up the phone receiver and dialed before I could stop her.

Fuck. I was planning to call Diego, but the sheriff would be closer. I had no idea how long it would take for Diego or one of my father’s cronies to get here. This was a safer bet.

By the time I was seated in a toothpaste-green vinyl chair, the woman was already chatting to someone on the other end of the phone. The scent of cleaning products and dog hair filled the room from the fake, terrazzo-look linoleum floors all the way up to the lazily rotating white ceiling fan. Stacks of old magazines littered small glass side tables, and plastic ferns swayed in the disinfectant-filled breeze. My leg bounced as anxiety ebbed through my veins. I hoped the sheriff hurried. It wouldn’t be long before my pursuers figured out I’d turned off somewhere and doubled back looking for me.

The receptionist, Suzan, if her name tag was anything to go by, brought me a paper cup filled with water. “Don’t worry, dear, it’s a small town. Doug will be here soon.”

I didn’t know if Suzan being on a first-name basis with the sheriff was a good thing or a bad thing, but he couldn’t get here soon enough. The pit in my stomach grew as the analogue clock ticked its way past nine p.m.

A few minutes later, headlights flashed through the glass front door, and I flinched when the bell above the door jingled and a portly middle-aged man in a brown sheriff’s uniform walked in, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops.

“Suzan.” He nodded in the receptionist’s direction.

His eyes raked over my disheveled appearance, and I pulled the zipper of my hoodie up to better cover the wound on my neck as I stood up.

“Hello, officer…” I glanced at his name badge, “Officer Smit. Thank you for coming so quickly. As I was telling Suzan, I have an abusive boyfriend, and I’m afraid he’s going to find me. I just need to call my family to pick me up.”

“Well, ma’am. If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t look to be in any shape to travel. But if that’s what you need, let’s get you down to the station, and we’ll call your people. We look after our own out here.” His smile was a little too bright considering the circumstances, but this was at the top of a very short list of options.

He led me out into the chilly night. The yellow glow from the vet clinic’s sign lit up the back seat of the Sheriff’s SUV as he pulled open the door. A metal grate divided it from the front seat, and goosebumps pricked up along my arms. That looked a lot like a cage.

As I hesitated, Officer Smit chuckled. “Don’t worry, little lady. You’re not in any trouble. It’s just policy. Keeps me safe, you know how that goes.”

He held out his hand, offering to help me up into the plastic seat. Everything I’d been through must have made me paranoid. Of course, I couldn’t sit in the front with him. What if I were a criminal and stabbed him while he was driving? It made perfect sense.

As soon as the door banged shut, worry churned in my chest. There were no handles on the inside of the door, and I was surrounded by metal mesh. Even the windows were covered, but worse, he picked up his radio, telling dispatch that he was out at the vet, dealing with a stray.

That was a straight-up lie. Why would he be lying to dispatch? As soon as he slid into the driver’s seat, I grabbed onto the metal divider and pulled myself forward. “Excuse me officer, I’m not sure if Suzan told you, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. My abusive ex-boyfriend is looking for me, and I’m scared of what he might do if he finds me.”

“Don’t you worry. I told you, we always take care of our own.” He didn’t put his car in drive, though. He just turned up the heater and settled deeper into his seat as if he were getting ready to take a nap.

What in the ever-loving fuck was he doing? Didn’t he understand? “Listen, we really need to go. Or, if I could just use your phone real quick, I’ll be out of your hair. You don’t have to take me to the station. Just drop me off at a bus stop. That would be totally fine. More than fine, in fact.”

“Ma’am, does this look like a taxi to you?” He pulled out his phone, tapped out a text, and started scrolling through some kind of funny videos, ignoring my urgency entirely.