Chapter 11 #2
“We can make a plan.” Her tongue trips over her words in her desperation to get them out. “Reino likes me. I can distract him.”
I reel with horror at her suggestion. “No.”
Undeterred, she plows ahead. “I can put my sleeping pills in his coffee. He’s always on duty at the main door in the morning. I can take his gun.”
“No,” I say, louder this time. “You’re not going to put yourself in that kind of danger.”
She squeezes my fingers. “I can disguise us. I can take the guys at the emergency exit a flask of coffee too. When they’re out cold, we can take the stairs to the second floor.
We’ll get out there and take the normal elevator to the ground floor.
We can walk right out of the front doors before Dante’s men are any the wiser. ”
“You don’t even have your stage makeup or wigs.”
“Honey, you haven’t seen what I can do with a sachet of instant coffee.
” She lets my hand go and touches one of my curls.
“I can turn you into a brunette in less than ten minutes. With my clothes, some heavy make-up, and sunglasses, no one will guess you’re Tatiana.
” She becomes more animated. “I can dress Noah up as a girl. He can wear one of my miniskirts. We’ll pretend it’s a game. ”
I turn to the window. “I don’t know, Jazz. If Dante catches us—”
“He won’t.” She steps into my line of vision. “We have to be self-confident. We just have to act the role.”
“You’re the actress. I suck at it.”
“Simply stare straight ahead and walk through the lobby as if you own it. If you exude self-confidence, no one is going to stop or question you.”
“Say we pull it off. What then? We don’t have money or ID’s.”
“We can empty the guards’ wallets.”
I swear her eyes are sparkling with a deviant light.
“You know this city, Tiana. You told me so yourself.”
I think for a moment. “And you know how to hot-wire a car.”
“Exactly.” She adds with enthusiasm, “We’ll work it out from there. We just need to get away first.”
The idea is tempting—crazy, but tempting—but it will turn my only friend into a fugitive.
I shake my head. “He’ll come after us. You’ll have to run for the rest of your life, just like me. You’ll have to change your name and become a different person.”
“Acting is my life, remember?”
“I’m not putting you in that position.”
“It’s not as if I have much going on for me at home. I’m a second-grade actress who plays small roles in shows no one has ever heard of, and I live in a tiny apartment with a roommate who detests me. Hell, even her cat hates me.”
“You have family… friends.”
“My so-called friendships are superficial. None of them matter. No one is missing me right now. And my family?” She laughs. “My mother hasn’t called me in three years.”
“Jazz,” I say, hurting for her.
I was lucky to have had a mom who loved me more than anything and who always made sure I knew it.
“So, Tatiana Teszner, I reckon we have nothing to lose. Let’s face it. Even if Dante catches you, he’s not going to kill you. He’s made that clear. What’s the worst that can happen? He can drag you back to New York, and your relationship can go back to being complicated.”
“All right,” I say slowly, not entirely convinced, but Jazz is already gathering sachets from the complimentary coffee bar.
By the time Noah wakes up, I’m a brunette with a surprisingly good hair dye. Jazz is truly a magician. For now, I’m wearing one of her baseball caps because I don’t want Noah to get a fright when he doesn’t recognize me.
I’m dressed in one of her stylish black dresses with flats to match.
A costume jewelry choker and a thick silver bracelet hide the marks on my neck and wrist. The Rolex obscures the welts on my other wrist. I was never going to wear it, but it’s worth at least a hundred thousand grand, which will come in very handy when I manage to sell it.
Jazz is wearing a vintage style dress with a wide skirt. She matched it with hot pink heels. Her cherry-brown hair is twisted in big curls and tied with a huge pink ribbon. A studded denim jacket completes the ensemble.
Our meagre possessions are packed into my bag that’s hidden in the bedroom closet. We didn’t want to risk taking Jazz’s suitcase, which may attract unwanted attention.
Noah walks into the lounge in his airplane pajamas with his dinosaur under his arm.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I go over, my heartbeat already wild in my chest. “Did you sleep well?”
Jazz nods at me. We decided to order breakfast with a flask of coffee as soon as Noah was awake.
It will take some time for the sleeping pills to take effect, but we have no idea for how long the men will be knocked out.
We didn’t want to drug them too early only for them to come to their senses before Noah was ready and we were gone.
“I’m hungry.” Noah looks me up and down, frowning at my attire. “Can I have pancakes? Can I make some with Dante?”
My heart clenches painfully. “Dante isn’t back yet. He has a job that keeps him very busy, so he can’t make pancakes every day.”
Noah shifts the dinosaur to his other arm. “Can I still have pancakes?”
“Sure.” I smile, hoping it doesn’t look as tremulous as it feels. “Do you want to play a game?”
His interest is immediately piqued. “What game?”
“Dress-up.” Jazz does a twirl to show off her dress. “Like your mom and me.”
He gasps. “Can I dress up like a pirate?”
Jazz taps a finger on her lips, pretending to be thinking. “I don’t have a pirate’s costume, but how about we dress you up like Goldilocks?”
He pouts. “I don’t want to be Goldilocks. I want to be the daddy bear.”
Jazz shoots me a panicked look. “I don’t have a bear costume either.”
Noah perks up. “Can I dress like Dante?”
“Noah.” My voice is soft and cajoling as I go over and stop in front of him. “You can be a pirate or a bear another time. We have to use what Jazz has here today.”
“But I don’t want to be Goldilocks.”
“Who would you like to be?” I keep my tone light. “What about Superwoman but only in a dress instead of her costume?”
He hugs the dinosaur to his chest and makes an angry face. “No.”
Taking a deep breath, I go down on my haunches. “We don’t have much time. We’re going away, so we have to leave quickly.”
His eyes grow wide. “I don’t want to go.”
“Sweetheart, we have to.”
I try to touch his arm, but he jerks away.
“No! I don’t want to go!”
The outburst catches me off guard. Noah has never reacted like this before. Sure, he threw a few tantrums in the past, mostly when he got overtired, but he’s never refused to leave anywhere with me.
“Noah, sweetheart—”
“No!” He backtracks to the door, shouting hysterically, “I want to stay with Dante. He said I can watch television.”
“Noah.” I straighten. “Calm down, please.”
“No,” he shouts at the top of his voice. “I don’t want to leave! I don’t want to leave! I want to fly in the plane and live in Dante’s big house. He said he’s coming back!” He bursts into tears. “He said he’s coming back!”
My heart shatters inside my chest. I’ve never seen my child like this.
Close to tears myself, I hold out a hand. “Noah, please.”
“Go away!” He throws the dinosaur at me. “Go away! I want to stay here!”
I glance over my shoulder at Jazz, who’s looking on helplessly.
Unable to stand it any longer, I rush over, kneel in front of him, and pull him into my arms. He fights me, kicking and crying, but I just hug him tighter while whispering soothing words in his hair.
“It’s all right, baby. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to leave. I’m sorry.”
It takes a moment before he calms down. I continue to clutch him against me as hiccups rack his small body.
Rocking him gently, I whisper, “I’m sorry, Noah. I’m so sorry, baby.”
I’m a monster. I broke my own child’s heart.
He sniffs against my chest before pulling away. When he looks at me with his tearstained cheeks, I swear he’ll never forgive me.
I get to my feet. “We can still play a game if you want. Maybe not dress-up.”
He sniffles some more and ducks his head. “I don’t want to play.”
Jazz touches my shoulder. Her gaze is sympathetic. “I’ll order breakfast.” She offers Noah a bright smile. “Pancakes, right?”
He runs from the room as fast as he can. A door slams down the lobby. The fact that he didn’t even take his dinosaur shows just how upset he is.
I hesitate between going after him and giving him a moment. Finally, I decide on the latter. He needs time more than he needs me right now.
Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes. I also need a minute to digest what’s just happened, what’s tipped the scale in our lives.
“I’m sorry, Tiana.”
I open my eyes to find Jazz standing in front of me, studying me with concern.
I try to give her a smile. “You should really stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my idea.”
“It was a good idea.”
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.
Suddenly exhausted, I shift down the wall until I sit on the floor with my back braced on the cool surface. Jazz sits down beside me and mimics my pose.
I take off the cap and drag my fingers through my brown hair. Then I pull my knees up and tip my head back to rest against the wall.
We simply sit like that for a while, neither of us speaking. I’m processing Noah’s breakdown—or rather, what that breakdown means—and Jazz is just being the good friend she is, knowing when to be quiet.
“Dante is good for Noah,” I say after a while, staring at the view through the window where the sun is breaking over the city.
Jazz nods a few times. “He can teach him things you can’t.”
A little offended, I steal a quick glance at her. “Like what?”
Staring straight ahead, she stretches her legs out in front of her. “To play soccer.”
I scoff and return my attention to the view. “I can play soccer.”
She huffs. “You can’t kick a ball if your life depends on it.”
Both of us chuckle, but our efforts are meek at best.
“He does need a daddy,” I say.
“He has a daddy.”
“We just have to find a way to make it work. Other divorced couples do. There’s no reason why we can’t.”
She leans her head on the wall and turns her face my way. “Tiana, I hate to break it to you, but Dante isn’t going to settle for only fifty percent of Noah’s time.”
“If I marry again, he’ll have to.”
“Are you saying you’re looking for a husband?”
“No.” I think about that. “Not necessarily.” Not that it wouldn’t be nice to have someone, someone who cares about me and who can offer me a pair of warm arms during all those lonely nights that are filled with my nightmares. “I’m just running different scenarios through my head.”
“Your ex won’t allow that. He’s always considered you to be his. That hasn’t changed.” No matter with how much compassion she delivers the statement, it still feels like a punch in the face. “I don’t think it ever will.”
That’s the thing about the truth. It always hits you the hardest.