Chapter 37
GABBY
“Thirty minutes. I promise.”
I throw the words over my shoulder as I step out of the back of the sedan. Bogdan grunts in reply.
The late-winter chill whips around me as I emerge into Wicker Park. Instinctively, I pull my coat tighter around me as I look around. Storefronts glow under string lights—tattoo parlors, vinyl shops, the café where Angie and I had a brunch ritual every Sunday during our first year at AngelCorp.
I glance over my shoulder at Bogdan’s SUV, a big hulking black shadow that’s totally out of place among the tiny electric cars and fixed-gear bikes. I flash him a casual wave through the tinted windows, all nonchalant, like I’m actually there to help Angie move, like I’d told him.
That would be a lie, unfortunately.
The passenger-side window slides down. “Don’t be too long. Call me if you need help.”
“Will do.”
He nods before sliding the window back up.
I hurry to the front door of Angie’s place, hitting the buzzer.
The door unlocks with the slow clackity groan I’ve heard so many times before.
I enter, climbing the narrow, creaky stairs and heading all the way up to the top floor.
Around halfway through the second flight of stairs, I find myself stopping to catch my breath.
“Yo! No on-the-clock breaks!” I glance up to see Angie’s smiling face staring down at me from the third floor.
“These stairs aren’t so easy when there’s two tiny humans inside you.”
“Toughen up, preggers. And hurry!”
I catch my breath, then make my way up to the top floor. The door’s already open, and I step through. Angie’s blonde hair is in a messy bun, her outfit a U of C sweatshirt and navy blue Athleta leggings.
The place is mostly bare, with only a few boxes here and there, but Angie’s already all but moved out.
That’s not what Bogdan thinks, however. The story I gave him is that Angie needed a little help packing her last few boxes.
“You know,” she says, standing up and dusting off her hands. “I’m starting to think your penthouse elevator is making you soft.”
“Says the girl who now also has a penthouse elevator.” I amble in with my pregnant-lady waddle.
“Well, yeah. But Johan’s just goes up to the top floor. It’s not, like, right into the apartment like Sasha’s.”
I plop onto the couch, still catching my breath a bit. “Can you imagine going back in time and telling junior-year us that in a few years we’d be comparing our buildings’ penthouse elevators?”
She lets out a snort of a laugh, but she frowns as she says, “Or talking about how you’re planning your escape.”
That wipes the smile off my face. Angie senses the mood shift right away, coming over and easing onto the couch next to me.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”
“What was it you said? All that matters is keeping your babies safe, and you’re not sure if Sasha’s up to the task? There have been too many attempts on your life so far, Gabs. It’s just pure luck that you’ve escaped all of them. Your luck is bound to run out.”
Guilt washes over me. Those were my words, and I still believe them. But I hate that I do.
“It’s not that I think he doesn’t want to protect us. Hell, he wants it more than anything. I think it’s just that no matter what he wants…”
“He only has so much control over what happens.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. He keeps me locked up in the apartment all day. What if Peter’s guys get up there? They have to be planning for it.”
She nods somberly. “You’ve got to do what’s best for those babies, even if it means leaving.”
I shift in my seat, thinking about the journey ahead.
“What’ve you packed?” she asks, nodding to my comically large purse.
“Not a lot at all. My passport, my wallet, a couple of changes of clothes, some medical stuff. That’s it. A bag any bigger would make Bogdan suspicious.”
She shakes her head. “He’s not going to be happy about this.”
Betraying Bogdan really does rub me the wrong way. Hopefully, Sasha doesn’t chew him out too hard when he learns what’s happened.
Angie leans over and opens my bag, going through it. “So this is it. You’re out. Like, out-out.” She rises suddenly and leaves the room.
“Hey, what’re you—”
She’s gone before I can finish, returning with a few small items in her hands. “You didn’t pack toothpaste or floss. Come on, girl—you need to take care of those teeth.” She slips the stuff into the bag and re-zips it.
“Thanks.” I sigh. “Yeah. Out-out.”
“What’s the plan?”
I shrug. “Like, barely a plan. I’m going to sneak out of here, take an Uber to the airport, then buy a one-way flight to Rome.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Rome?”
I nod. “Never been. And I took a little Italian in college.”
“Oh, so you’re basically fluent.”
I cringe. “It was the only city that had one-ways still available.”
“Throwing a dart at a map, more or less. Then what?”
“I ditch my phone at the airport, leave, and I don’t know. Teach English?”
“Got to admit, Gab, this isn’t the most solid plan in the world.”
“I know, I know. But it’s the best I could come up with on such short notice.
But I’ve got some money to live on, and the important thing is that my babies will be safe.
That’s all that matters. I can’t raise them in this life.
” I sweep my hand toward the window, as if Chicago encompasses everything I want to leave.
“He’s going to come for you, you know. He’ll track you to the ends of the earth. I’ll have to lie.”
The idea of Sasha grilling Angie makes me a little sick to my stomach. “I know. I hate it, but—”
“It’s okay,” she says, cutting me off. “If it keeps you and the babies safe, I’ll do it. Just one condition.”
“What’s that?”
She smiles. “I come stay with you when the babies are born. Assuming we can keep it on the down low.”
“Deal.” I pull her in for a tight hug. I slip my phone out of my pocket and check the time. “Okay, I need to go now before I lose my nerve. And before Bogdan gets antsy and comes up to help.”
“Got it. Okay, the maintenance door is this way.”
Together, we go back out into the hallway, where she leads me to a rusty green door at the far end of the hall.
“It’s normally locked, but I figured out how to open it.” She grabs the handle, jiggling it a certain way. Sure enough… click. The door opens, revealing a set of stairs heading up.
“After you, my co-conspirator,” I say.
“Just up the stairs to the roof.”
We head up, Angie pushing open one more door. The view hits me right away. The Blue Line is just behind us, the gorgeous Chicago skyline off in the distance.
“Wait, you had this kind of roof access, and you never told me?” I ask, stepping out into the middle of the space.
“I know, I know. It was just kind of my private Zen zone. Anyway, here.”
I watch as she hurries across the roof, squatting down next to a fire escape staircase. I join her and look down; the stairs go right down to street level.
“Get down there and call your Uber. You should be able to get one right away.” She purses her lips as she turns to me, looking me up and down with worried eyes. “And be safe, okay? Get in touch as soon as you can.”
“I will, I promise.”
She pulls me into another tight hug. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, you know?”
“I know. It sucks. Really bad.”
Angie lets me go, shaking her head. “Go on and get down there before I force you to stay.”
“Love you, Ange.”
“Love you, too.”
I take one last look at my best friend before throwing the bag over my shoulder and starting down the fire escape, the din of the traffic below rising up to greet me, the Blue Line clambering along the track, my future completely and totally uncertain.