But not until we make it up and out of here.
Rather than take the elevator, she leads me to a stairwell. “You’re not seriously expecting me to be able to do this, are you?” I ask, exasperated at the idea of having to climb all those stairs in my condition.
“You don’t have a choice. Let’s go. Move your ass.” She takes off ahead of me, and I curse her under my breath before pushing myself to follow. I can’t let a little fatigue and weakness get in the way now. Not when the rest of my life depends on it. There will be plenty of time to rest once I’m free.
By the time we get to the last flight, I almost have to pick my legs up using my hands to get from one step to the next. “Just a little farther,” she whispers, encouraging me from up ahead. “Hurry. I made sure the helicopter would be waiting.”
“What’s in this for you?” It’s better than dwelling on my almost numb legs and the fact that I might throw up even though there’s nothing in my stomach.
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel right having you locked up like that.” She holds up a hand, and I fall back a step before she opens the door to make sure the coast is clear. My heart’s pounding in my ears as I wait—and when she waves me through, that pounding turns to thumping that I’m sure will kill me before I ever reach fresh air.
We stay close to the walls, darting down the wide passageway leading to salvation. Before we reach the doors, Aspen pauses to duck into a closet. She comes out holding a puffy coat, which I quickly pull on, along with the knit cap she offers. I plunge my hands into the pockets and close my fingers around a wad of cash. If this is all some elaborate trick, she really pulled out all the stops.
“Come on. Hurry!” She leads the way again, and before long, I’m out in the cold, clean air. It’s enough of a sudden change to shock my system, but if anything, it gives me the added incentive to haul ass to the helipad.
“I can’t pay you back,” I remind her as we run.
“I’m not asking you to. Whatever happens after this, that’s on you. At least now you have a chance.” We reach the helicopter, and the pilot opens the door. Aspen hangs back while I climb inside. Once I’m seated, I look out at her. She’s shivering, and I wonder if this is her coat I’m wearing.
“Thank you.” It feels empty, meaningless, but it’s the least I owe her.
“You’re welcome.” She turns tail and runs, probably trying to make sure she’s not missed once they raise the alarm that I’m gone.
This feels too good to be true. Nobody jumped out and grabbed me. Nobody dragged me back to my cell. The pilot gets the engines fired up, and within moments, we’re lifting off the ground.
I can’t believe it. A surge of emotion hits me all at once, but I can’t decide if I want to laugh or cry. I’m never stepping foot in that place again. I’m putting it all behind me. From now on, my life belongs to me alone.
To think, I have Aspen Rossi to thank for it.
This isn’t what I expected.
“This is the place?” My cab driver cranes his neck, peering through the windshield at the rather rundown-looking building. It’s not the sort of place I expected Nash to send me. Here I was, feeling proud of myself, proud that I finally did what he instructed. I could barely sit still on the plane, so eager to finally arrive.
Now? I’m wondering if I got the address wrong, after all. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on top of the shit sundae my life has become?
“Well? Are you getting out or not?” I’m keeping the guy from picking up another fare. I guess if I got it wrong, I can always try again. For now, I hand him the cash and hurry out of the car. I’m still weak and shaky, but more than anything, I want to get inside so I can finally rest. That thought alone is enough to keep me moving along the brick walkway leading up to a barren front porch. There’s no sign of life behind the windows, but this is supposed to be a safe house. I guess they can’t exactly hang a sign advertising that.
Here goes nothing. I knock on the door and hope this is the right place because I’m so tired I don’t know if I can stand any more traveling. There has to be a hotel somewhere I could stay for the night if I’m totally off base. Somewhere I can get my head together.