20. Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty
FIAMETTA
“ W hat are you doing here? I told you to wait outside.” The sound of my heart pounding in my ears intensifies when I see Simone standing outside my door. After another attack from Tomas, and then watching the life get crushed out of him, I knew I had to get out of there. I won’t survive if I stay any longer.
Despite knowing how big a risk it was, I asked Simone for help. We came up with a plan, at the funeral, and she gave me the nod that it was set and ready on the phone before it all kicked off.
What I didn’t expect, and definitely didn’t want, was for her to come inside the hall of horrors that Father’s home has become since his death. Danger lurks around every corner. It's full of vicious men with wicked intentions who would feast on a pretty thing like Simone.
“I was worried something had happened and you needed me,” she says, as I clutch her upper arm and drag her into my bedroom.
“It’s dangerous, Si-Si. This isn’t a joke anymore. People are dying and I’ve got a bad feeling that many more are going to,” I’m whispering now. Trying to make the least amount of noise, so that she can hear me but no one else can.
“Everything was open, and no one was around,” she follows suit, even going so far as to hunch forward as if we’re about to sneak off like cartoon bank robbers. “I just walked in without anyone seeing me.”
“Did you think about what could’ve happened if there was someone?” We don’t have time for a lecture, but I need to drive my point across.
She shrugs and slumps into a pout. “I had to make sure you were okay. You’re my best friend, Fi. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m in the same boat. I’m scared of something happening to you because of me, especially when you’re trying to help me get away from this.”
I have to turn away, not that seeing me in a moment of weakness would bother Simone. She’s seen me at my best and at my worst. Held my hand in the good times, and let me use her shoulder to cry on in the bad. Hell, she’s one of the three people, myself included in that number, who know that I’m with child. But this isn’t a world she belongs to. It’s a terrible environment, filled with terrible people, who don’t care about emotional ties.
“We can talk some more later. First, let’s get out of here.” I grab the bag I packed from off the floor. Instead of the many Tomas had scattered over my bed, I’m only taking one now. I’m traveling light, with a few sets of clean clothes, my toiletries and the two copies of my favorite book. Everything else, whether it holds sentimental value or not, can stay. I’ll either collect them in time, or let them become a showpiece in this museum of suffering.
“Out the way I came, or...?” she trails off, unsure of my plan.
“The window.” I walk over to it and draw back the curtain.
It’s open already, and it wasn’t me that did it. With the aircon on, I rarely open the windows. Sometimes to get some fresh air, sure, but not tonight.
I stare at the opening for a moment longer than I probably should. Then out into the night. Is he here now? Or is this from Crue’s last visit?
And though I’ll probably never ask, and never know, I like to think he is here. Whatever decision stopped him from bursting through the window and stopping Tomas was his to make and to keep. I’d never hold it against him. Deep down, I can see that he isn’t normal.
Well, I can see that on the surface. The deeper side comes in his odd behaviors. Sticking to a code, still wanting to finish his job after I believed we developed something more...
If I can accept that, I have to accept everything else that comes with him. But I do hope that someday, he’ll be willing to share it with me.
“Uh, are you sure about this?” Simone asks, snapping me out of my memory trance, while her head hangs outside the window.
“Yeah, I’ve seen Crue do it like a hundred times.”
“But he’s a giant. Whose feet can probably touch the ground when his hand is touching the windowsill.”
At least I’m not the only one exaggerating.
I peer over the edge, and when I see how far away the ground is from up here, I understand her sudden concern about my plan. You never pay attention to the little details when things don’t seem bad. Certainly not when the thought of escaping through a bedroom window never crosses your mind.
“We can’t risk going back that way,” I look over my shoulder at the door. Tomas and the other guy could finish their business at any moment and see us running. The chance of getting caught is way too high.
“Fine. You first,” she says, gulping.
I nod, drawing in a deep lungful and exhaling it through my mouth.
Time to be brave.
The hardest part is getting out of the window itself and finding a solid footing on the ledge and then the lattice that is under it. That’s covered in tall growing creeper vines that ensnare my feet on some of the rungs, and make it slip on others. But as treacherous as it looked from up above, the climb is easy, and I even let myself drop the last few feet to avoid an unnecessary fall.
Simone follows, almost identical in her footing to me. She’s slower, and takes more time. She pauses to pant nervously while clinging onto the vines so tightly that, even in the dark, I can see her white-knuckled fists.
“See, was that so hard?” I ask, when her feet touch the flower bed.
“Yes. Yes, it was.”
I watched Crue leave twice out of the many times he paid a visit to my window. Both times he crossed the yard in the same direction, before disappearing into the trees.
Following that logic and knowing that this is my father’s garden and not some wild jungle, I assume he kept heading the same way until he reached an exit.
“Bang on the money,” I say out loud, when we come to the end of the yard, where an old section of the wall had crumbled inward. It’s still tall enough to keep most people out, or in for that matter, but a blanket over the rubble tells me that this is the exit we’re looking for.
I boost Simone up first. She sits on the edge of the broken wall, anchoring herself with one hand behind it, and extends the other down to me. I take it and with a heave, she hoists me to her side.
We climb over and run. At first, it feels aimlessly free. We sprint through an empty field, with nothing and no one chasing us. After our joyous gallop, we reach her car and start to drive. However, it doesn’t take long for the day to take its toll on me. I’m not sure if it’s the gentle bumping against my back or the comfortable plush seat, but my eyes grow heavier and heavier until I doze off.
You’ll have to forgive me, Si-Si. Momma needs her beauty sleep.
I wake up when a bump in the road rattles Simone’s car so violently, I wouldn’t be surprised if she told me, we were experiencing an earthquake. And then, as I stare through the windshield, I notice it isn’t a road at all. It’s a dirt path, better suited to dirt and mountain bikes. Certainly not made for a Toyota Rav4. Dense overgrowth and tall trees tower over us in all directions.
“We’re nearly there,” she says, navigating the treacherous trail.
“Where’s there exactly?” I ask.
Simone smirks, opting to let the sight unfold instead of telling me.
We break out from the dense tree cover into a clearing, and as we move further into it, toward a small wooden structure in the distance, I notice it isn’t much of a clearing at all. The cabin is surrounded by water on all sides. No lights show around it and there are none in the distance, either.
We are completely isolated from the world, and it’s the perfect place to wait while we hide out.
We get out of the car to the sound of nightlife chittering loudly around us. Crickets chirp below, and big-winged beetles fly so close to my head I can feel the wind from their wings. In the distance, owls hoot from the trees.
“Oh my God,” I say, as I approach the log cabin.
“Do you hate it?” Simone sounds apprehensive.
“Not at all! It’s perfect. More than perfect.”
I hug her. The action is all I have left in me to express my appreciation for her help. She returns it with a gentle kiss atop my brow.