I knew I’d made a mistake the moment my bare feet hit the grass outside. The shoes I wore today were in Storm’s room, and there was no way I was going in there to get them, so naturally in my own infinite wisdom I decided to go it without any. The need to escape is too strong for me to fight.
But I didn’t quite think it through.
Spring Chicago nights are cold for the most part, and tonight is no different. The grass between my toes is wet and freezing, and my feet ache after only a few steps. I tug my jacket tighter around me, but it does nothing to protect me from the chill.
I should turn back, I think to myself. But I don’t do it. I keep walking toward what I hope is my best chance at escape. I haven’t been out of the estate any other way than the front gate, but surely there’s another exit, and logically it would be at the back of the ridiculously large property.
Who needs this much land?
A mafia family, you idiot.
God only knows what they use this place for, and I don’t want to stick around to find out.
I glance behind me and when I don’t find anyone following me, I break out into a jog. I don’t think I have a lot of time based on my very limited surveillance of the security rounds. It seems they walk the perimeter of the house once every thirty minutes, and I’m about five minutes from the next pass.
The tree line gets closer and closer, but the moment my feet hit the pine needles on the ground I hiss out a breath. Fuck. I really didn’t think through anything after the soft grass. What am I going to do when I get to the road? I can’t walk all the way to the city, not safely at least, so what’s my other option? Hitchhike? That’s not really an option either.
I reposition the bag on my shoulder and sigh. I just have to get to the airport or a bus station. I have enough money to get me out of the city, and probably out of the state, but not much further than that. I’ll have to change my name, and find a job and somewhere to live, but I can do it. I deserve a new life. A better life. And I’m going to make it happen.
As upset as I am to have to defer my studies until I can safely return to Chicago, I never really wanted to be a teacher anyway. It was a safe, stable career because hey, we’re always going to need teachers. I never wanted to be like my parents, taking any job they can just to make ends meet. But maybe there’s something else I could do with my life, something I’ll love.
The idea gives me the energy to keep moving despite the agony in my feet and my lungs barely being able to drag in a breath. I’m out of shape and overweight, running isn’t something I’ve ever done a lot of. In fact, I’m one of those girls who did just about anything to get out of gym class in high school. But I don’t allow that to deter me. Not when my freedom is at stake.
Once I’m in the thick of the trees, the moonlight no longer guides me forward. Even once my eyes adjust to the dark, I can barely see a few feet in front of me. It would have been easier to wait until the morning, but I don’t want to risk seeing Storm again. The strange thing is, I believed Wynter when she said Storm isn’t the kind of guy to hurt a woman, and that today was an outlier, but I can’t stay here with him. Him. This life. It isn’t for me. I’m not the kind of woman who can stand by the side of a mafia boss. I’m an eighteen-year-old who no one has ever loved, I need to live my life. I need to find my own path, and I can’t do that when I’m chained to a man like Storm Saint James.
A clearing comes into view and then a huge brick wall far too tall to scale even if that was something I could physically do, which it most certainly is not. I stop in front of it and look one way and then the other, hoping to see some kind of gate, another driveway, anything. But when my eyes meet nothing but brick, my stomach sinks.
Fuck.
“Which way do I go,” I murmur to myself. I have a bad feeling that maybe there is only one entry and exit, and if that’s the case, I’m fucked. If Storm was mad about what I did today, he’s going to be furious when he finds out I ran away in the middle of the night. God only knows what the punishment for that would be.
Neither way looks more unassuming than the other, but for some reason I’m drawn to the left. I’ve never been one to go against my gut, and I’m not about to start doubting it now.
I take off on a run because I have no idea what the security schedule is like this far away from the house. If I’m lucky, not that great, but I’ve never claimed to be a lucky person and after the last few days, I think the opposite may be true.
I feel like I’m stuck in one of those dreams where you run and you run, but you don’t move anywhere. I stop and lean against the wall, gasping in breaths greedily. The first thing I’m doing when I get to my new home, wherever that may be, is getting fit. I never thought I would need to run any kind of distance, but after this experience I can see how unbelievably naive I was. Maybe I’ll learn self-defense too. That couldn’t hurt.
Once I’ve caught my breath, I continue running the same way I was before, but when I reach the corner of the wall and look down the length of the property, tears pool in my eyes. I should have known this was going to be a fortress. I never should have tried this. I should have bided my time and escaped when Storm inevitably had to take me out of the house for something. But now I’ve ruined any chance of that. Because the minute Storm gets his hands on me, I doubt he’ll allow me to leave the estate for a long, long time.
Voices echo through the trees, but there’s only one word I can focus in on. My name. They know I’m missing. They’re coming to get me.
I run as fast as I can toward the front gate. It’s a long way, but if I can just make it I can figure out what my next steps are going to be. I run through the agony in my feet, the ache in my legs, and the exhaustion in my lungs, not allowing myself even a moment of rest. I don’t have time, not when there are men looking for me, and not just any men. Cold, ruthless, men who will snap my neck without blinking.
I peer over my shoulder and spot a torch light a few yards back. They’re getting closer. Too close. My foot catches a sharp branch and one moment I’m running, and the next I’m tumbling to the ground with a scream I can’t swallow. I try to catch myself with my hands, but when sharp sticks dig into my palms I quickly pull them back out of instinct, causing my head to hit the ground hard.
Pain radiates up my leg and tears immediately roll down my cheeks, but for what I’m not sure. The agony. The fear. How utterly hopeless my entire being is right now. I can’t put my finger on it.
I’m going to die the prisoner of the most ruthless man in Chicago, and it’s that thought that fills my mind as black fades into my vision and unconsciousness drags me down.
