I was hysterical for the first part of that drive. Worked myself into a panic attack about half way, and Rome would try to help me, try to get my breathing to go right but I’d just kick him away.1
I was shaking from the adrenaline at first and then nothing.
I fell to quiet, stared out the window as we drove further and further up the M11 and I didn’t know where we were going, but I had a guess.
There’s an old airstrip my dad built in the ’80s out by Clavering. No one knows about it. It’s on a farm. The boys use it sometimes to smuggle things in and out.
I have a feeling I’m the thing that’s being smuggled out.
Romeo stares over at me, tired and wounded like I’ve hurt him. Like, whatever the fuck is happening to me right now is hard for him.
Gives me a dirty look from the other side of the car.
“You think I’d ever let anyone hurt you?”
His jaw juts out and he looks away like I’m the traitor here.
No word from my brother. That feels strange. I guess all of this is strange, though.
We roll into the farm, lights off, everything’s quiet. The car stops and I make a plan in my head. I’ve been here a few times before. There’s another farm about a mile away. They don’t do what we do, they’re just nice, normal people, uncompromised by crime and my brother — I’ll run to them.
Miguel opens the car door, offers me his hand to help me out and I — forgive me, Miguel — front kick him. Catches him off-guard enough that he falls backwards onto the ground and then I fucking leg it.
Run as fast as I can.
It’s dark, I’m in stupid shoes. They’re trainers but they’re not made for running, those stupid Golden Goose shoes, what are they good for? They arrive tattered, they don’t make you faster—
“Daisy!” Romeo calls for me in a whisper, running after me.
He’s close.
It’s not fair, it’s always been like this. He’s faster than me, and I’m fast. I’m faster than everyone else except for Romeo. He’s always been better than me at running. I used to cry about it when we were kids because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t win with him and my dad used to sit me on his knee and say, “Faster is faster, Daisy. The only way to beat him is to beat him.”
But I never beat him, not then, not now.
He gets out in front of me and shoves me backwards onto the ground, throwing himself down on top of me. We have a full-on physical altercation.2 I knee him in the groin, wrap my legs around his neck, try to choke him but he just shrugs me off, throws me backwards back on to the ground and then pins me there.
“Fucking stop—” he growls. “We don’t have time for this — get up!”
He tries to pull me up off the ground but I kick him again and that’s enough for him — he gets angry with me in a way he never does.
“Don’t test me, Dais,” he says, shoving my shoulders down into the dirt. I stare up at him, eyes wet, face a bit muddy now from the combination of the crying and the fighting, and Romeo throws me over his shoulder and carries me back. Past the car, into a barn where there’s a little jet.
As soon as I see the plane I’m crying again, crying and trying to fight him off and he ignores me, carries me on to it anyway. Miguel follows us on, closes the door behind us and then he runs to the cockpit.
Romeo dumps me onto the floor of the plane and then retreats to the back of it like a wounded animal. I jump to my feet, I want to fight him again, get the fuck off this thing — I don’t care what I have to do, I have to get off it and get back to Christian.
And then I see him, slumped in a window seat, staring out of it.
I watch my brother for a few seconds and I don’t know — I’ve never seen him like this — I don’t even know what this is.
“Julian?” I say quietly because I can’t help it.
He turns and looks over at me like he’s just noticed me.
Blinks twice.
His eyes are red.
I’ve never seen him cry before, not even with our parents.
And then I don’t know, call it instinct, call it family, call him every fucking curse word under the sun, call him my best friend on the planet — I run to him, drop to my knees in front of him. Hold his face with my hand.
“Julian, what happened?”
His breathing is deep and slow. His eyes are blinking slowly.
“They had to give him something,” Romeo says as the propellers start up.
“For what?” I look from him back to my brother.
Romeo shrugs. “He was a mess.”
I frown at him for that non-answer.
“Julian—” I touch his hand with mine and he stares at it as I do. “What happened?”
“They put a hit out on Magnolia.” He blinks.
My face goes slack. “What? No.”
“They got her.” He breathes out. “They t-boned her on Vauxhall Bridge. I saw it…” His eyes are blurry. “I tried to get to her—” He shakes his head.
“No—” I shake my head. “No, why would they—?”
“Because of me,” he says as the plane pulls out of the barn.
I feel winded.3
“Did she—” Oh my God. “I mean, is she okay?”
Julian shakes his head and looks out the window. “I don’t know.”
I sit down next to my brother, rest my head against his arm.
“Where are we going?” I ask, wipe my nose with my hand.
He puts his head on top of mine and stares straight ahead.
“Away, Dais.”
1 He’s a traitor.
2 It’s fairly one-sided, if I’m honest.
3 I hate this life.
