The buzzing of my phone has my heart racing in my chest. I fish it from my pocket and smile when I see his message light up the screen.
Nash: You okay?
Me: Yes, still at the motel, but I’m thinking about leaving.
Nash: That’s probably a good idea. I’m telling you fucking Rossi is taking out your family.
Family. Ha. I don’t give a shit about them. The only person I care about is Nash.
Nash: Go to the place I told you about. You remember?
How could I forget? He has made me memorize the address, telling me to go there if I need to lay low.
Me: What about you? Can’t you come here and get me?
I stare at the screen, hopeful. I wish he would just come with me.
Nash: No. I’ll meet you there. No matter what, you go there. Even if you don’t hear from me, you’ll be safe.
Me: Why wouldn’t I hear from you.
Nash: I might be next.
Me: Don’t say that.
Just the thought of losing him has my chest aching.
Nash: Don’t worry about me. Just go to the place and clear your phone.
Me: Okay.
I let the drape fall closed after staring into the mostly empty parking lot for another few seconds. I’m afraid to leave this room, but I’m more afraid of what will happen if I don’t. Just like Nash taught me, I reset the phone to manufacturer settings, deleting all calls, messages, and phone numbers saved.
Mustering as much courage as I can, I tighten my hold on the strap of my backpack and walk toward the door. All I have to do is leave the room and start walking toward the train station.
Once I’m out of North Woods, it’ll be easier for me to blend in, but until then, I need to put as much distance between me and this town as possible. I open the door to the hotel room and step out into the empty hall, checking both directions for any possible assailants.
With a person like Quinton Rossi after you, you can’t ever be too sure. Once I feel certain the coast is clear, I start my walk toward the stairwell. I force myself to ignore the loud voice in my head telling me to turn around. No matter what, I’ll never be safe here again—not after what happened.
I descend the stairs and make my way through the hotel lobby, where the woman behind the front desk smiles at my appearance. I look away, and my stomach churns as I reach the doors, which open automatically in my presence.
No going back after this.
It’s all running until I get somewhere I can never be found.
Against my better judgment, I leave the protection of the hotel and walk toward the train depot. I follow the directions on my phone, my legs moving quickly and my heart galloping in my chest as I peer over my shoulder every two seconds to make sure I’m not being followed. A van drives past slowly before coming to a stop on the road. The windows are blacked out, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t need to see inside to know who’s inside that vehicle.
Fear ripples down my spine, and my fight-or-flight instincts kick in as soon as the door slides open, and Quinton Rossi’s form appears before me. I pedal backward and whirl around, prepared to take off at a dead run, only I’m not fast enough. Fuck. Quinton grabs me by the back of my shirt and hauls me toward the van.
Panicking, I twist in his grip, trying to escape him. His piercing blue gaze collides with mine, and the coldness freezes me to the bone.
“Let’s have a little chat…” He snarls, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, he’s shoving me into the van, my ass landing haphazardly on the seat while the door slams, closing me inside.
My hands tremble as I slowly adjust myself in the seat. I can feel Quinton staring at me, and I keep my eyes trained on the floor. The van starts to move, and I wonder where he’s taking me? Not that I plan to ask him. I’m going to keep my mouth shut as long as possible.
“Who is Nash Brookshire to you, and how do you know him?” His voice is sharp, but I ignore his question, almost as if I didn’t hear it at all. “Or maybe Matteo Valentine. Does that name ring any bells in your head?”
I swallow around the lump of fear forming in my throat. I know the power that Quinton has and what he’ll do if he ever finds out that we’re related. Nash, on the other hand, is a different story.
“Silence won’t save them. Hell, it won’t save you, either. One way or another, you’ll tell me what I want to know. Everyone does.” His warning is clear. He’ll do anything to get revenge. Anything.