“Charlie.” I touch her arm and Rella’s staring outside like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “I know what he’s doing. I know you’re going through something. You can leave with me. I swear we’ll help you—”
“No,” she says, pulling away, and I see the fear in her eyes, that same fear I used to feel whenever The Fist would come home in a particularly bad mood. It’s the fear of a man’s wrath, a man’s desire to kill and break and hurt, the fear of a true sadist.
She’s trapped. I can see the cage all around her—bars of her own devising. I want to break her free and take her from this place, but I don’t think she’ll ever get away until she’s ready.
I pull her into another hug, this one fierce and brief. “When I’m away, call me. Come see me. You can tell me the truth about everything then and I swear I’ll help.”
“How do you know there’s a truth to tell?”
“Come on, Charlie. It’s written all over you.” I kiss her cheek and wipe a tear away. “Find me. I want to help.”
She only nods and walks away like she’s forcing herself to move.
“Let’s get going,” Rella says softly and tugs on my wrist.
I follow her outside. I have to squint and let my vision adjust. I wipe the tears from my eyes and steady myself as we hurry around the back of the house, flitting from tree to tree, bush to bush, trying to stay as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. The pool is a problem—there’s not much cover around it, so we hurry as fast as we can and skirt along the back as a single inflatable giraffe floats along the gently lapping water.
It’s quiet. Nobody calls out, nobody says a word. We reach the far side of the pool and the garage is there, the back door beckoning, and inside is freedom and Calvino and—
“Hey, you two!”
Rella freezes and I look back.
Two big guys in dark suits are walking fast from the back door toward us.
“Guards,” Rella hisses. “Vince’s men. Run!”
She yanks on my wrist so hard it nearly dislocates my shoulder. I sprint after her, hurrying hard and breathing rapidly. The guards shout again and chase after us, but we’re close to the garage and reach the door before they can catch up. Rella yanks it open and throws herself inside as her dark hair billows out behind her. I follow, dodging around tools and storage boxes, as the smell of oil and exhaust and grease and humid concrete fills my nostrils.
The guards outside shout as Rella hurries up to a bright red convertible Mazda Miata, this tiny little thing with a round snout and only two seats. The top’s down, and the leather seems to glisten expectantly, like it’s waiting for me to dive inside and wants to be driven so desperately it hurts.
“This is your car?” I ask, gaping at it.
“Don’t stare. Jump in! No time for the trunk trick, so I hope you’re a good driver.”
I yank the door open and get behind the wheel. I look around for the keys but they’re nowhere to be seen, and Rella’s busy hitting the garage door opener. The door clatters up as the guards burst into the garage, look around briefly, then spot me.
“Rella!”
She yanks a set of keys hanging on the wall free and tosses them to me. I reach out and manage to snag them from the air, barely grabbing them with the tips of my fingers. I pull them down and shove the biggest into the ignition.
A guard reaches me and grabs my hair over the door. I scream as I turn the car on and the engine roars to life. Rella’s shouting, the guards are shouting, but I can’t understand what they’re saying as the guy that has me pulls my hair and yanks my head from side to side like he’s trying to break my neck. I can’t reach the gear shift, can’t get the car out of park, and can’t reach the gas pedal. It feels like he’s going to rip my head off and tear all my hair from my skull and I’m screaming in pain and yelling at the top of my lungs when a huge blast echoes through the room.
The guard gripping my hair suddenly releases me and something wet splatters against my clothes.
I look over and the guard’s gone. His partner’s standing there staring with an open mouth and I follow his gaze: the man’s lying on the ground in a puddle of thick red blood. His head is a mess of bone fragments and brain, and I vaguely recognize his hooked nose and dark eyes, but half his face is missing, replaced by meat and gristle and shattered eyeball goop.