Chapter 3
THREE
The slam of a car door jerked me awake. My eyes snapped open, my heart pounding, half-expecting Steele’s men to appear over the fence.
I kept perfectly still behind the shed, barely daring to breathe while the neighborhood came to life around me.
Morning had arrived and, with it, the sounds of another normal day in suburbia.
Doors opened and shut. Engines started. A garage door whirred somewhere nearby.
Voices carried faintly through the morning air.
People left for work. Children boarded buses that would take them to school.
I listened carefully, forcing myself to stay alert even as exhaustion dragged at me. The last thing I needed was to get comfortable and be discovered by the homeowner stepping outside for coffee.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Eventually the sounds began to thin out. One car drove away. Then another. The steady hum of activity faded little by little until the neighborhood settled into a quiet stillness.
I waited longer anyway, just in case. When nothing else happened, my body finally relaxed against the side of the shed. My eyes closed again despite my best effort to keep them open.
The next time I woke, the sun was high overhead.
Heat surrounded me, thick and heavy, and sweat clung to my skin beneath the black hoodie.
Wriggling into a sitting position, I grimaced and tugged the fabric over my head.
Instant relief washed over me as the humid air touched my arms. Using the arm of the sweatshirt, I wiped the sweat from my brow.
Even in the shade of the shed, I could see the brown streak of dirt on the dark fabric.
I studied my hands more closely. Dirt and debris had worked its way into the creases of my fingers, dark under my nails.
My arms were covered with scratches, and my jeans were torn and smudged with mud.
I could only imagine what my face and hair looked like after my hours spent sprinting through the woods.
I wished I could clean up, but that would have to wait until I’d reached town. Perhaps I could find a gas station bathroom, somewhere I could slip in unnoticed. Unless…
Shifting to my knees, I crawled slowly toward the corner of the shed and peeked out. My gaze drifted across the yard. The pool sparkled under the midday sun, its surface rippling softly in the breeze. I could practically feel the cool water gliding over my skin, washing away the grime.
No.
It was a risk I couldn’t take. What if the owner was still home and saw me?
Or maybe a neighbor? I’d be arrested for sure.
And while jail might be preferable to being back at the compound, Steele’s men would eventually catch wind of the fact that I’d been picked up and would come for me once I’d been released. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Settling back in my spot against the shed I let out a sigh. Better that I stay here until dark, when I could move around undetected.
Several minutes passed in silence, and I closed my eyes, praying I could go back to sleep. I would need to get as much rest as possible before I left, because God only knew where I’d be sleeping tomorrow.
The oppressive heat seemed to grow even thicker, clogging my lungs until I could barely breathe. God, I was going to go crazy here!
I dragged in a deep breath and shifted to get more comfortable. A pebble dug into my thigh, and I winced at the pain. I brushed it away and settled back down. But I couldn’t get the thought of the pool out of my mind.
What if I was quick? Just a quick dip, in and out. Just enough to clean up and cool off.
I swallowed hard and tried to shake off the tempting thought. Better to stay out of sight, the common sense part of my brain whispered. But the other, more daring, side prodded me to make my move. No one was around. Everyone had left for school or work.
Unable to resist any longer, I cocked my ears toward the house and listened. No voices filtered from inside. No footsteps scuffed against pavement.
Carefully, I peeked around the corner of the shed. The pool glimmered back at me, its surface dancing invitingly.
I remained statue-still for several minutes, my eyes glued to the house. My gaze roved over the exterior from the back door to the windows, searching for the slightest hint of movement.
The glass reflected only the sunlight. There wasn’t a flicker of movement inside—no one walking around, not even a TV playing in the background. And if a nosy neighbor happened to glance into the yard from a house nearby, the tall privacy fence would block most of the view.
Decision made, I moved quickly.
I slipped off my boots first then stuffed the envelope of money deep inside one boot so it wouldn’t blow away.
That done, I peeled away the rest of my clothes, laying them across the warm concrete where the sunlight could reach them.
The fabric was damp from sweat and the morning humidity; they would dry faster out here.
Keeping low, I emerged from my concealed spot and tossed another look around. The house remained quiet and still. Even the neighboring homes on each side were devoid of life.
Confident that I was safe, at least for now, I quickly crossed the patio, then lowered myself over the concrete edge, took a deep breath, and slipped into the pool.
The cool water closed around me as I sank straight to the bottom. Never in my entire life had anything felt so damn good. I opened my eyes, watching as my hair streamed out around me. Bubbles escaped my nose, drifting upward into the shaft of light that pierced the surface of the pool.
Pressing my feet to the bottom, I propelled myself upward and broke the surface with a sigh of relief. I knew I should hurry, but at the moment, I couldn’t dredge up the effort. The coolness of the pool was a direct opposition to the heat of the early afternoon, and it felt deliciously refreshing.
Typically, autumn would have descended over the land, but the past couple of weeks had been unseasonably warm, with temperatures soaring into the high-eighties during the day. Thank God the homeowner hadn’t prematurely closed up the pool for the season.
The chlorinated water stung a bit in my various cuts and scratches, particularly the one on my lower lip.
I dunked my head again, rinsing the wound of any lingering debris.
A few bruises dotted my arms and legs, but the scratches had already scabbed over.
Thankfully, none were terribly deep, so I didn’t think I needed to worry about them getting infected.
Rubbing my hands briskly over my body, I washed away the sweat and grime. My limbs taken care of, I ducked under completely, letting the water soak through my tangled hair before resurfacing.
I took a few minutes to scrub at my arms and neck, working the dirt loose from my skin. I ran my fingers through my hair again and again until the worst of the tangles were gone and the water around me carried away the last traces of dirt.
For the first time since the fire, I felt almost human again. Part of me wanted to stay there forever—floating in silence, forgetting the world beyond the fence.
But that wasn’t an option.
Reluctantly I climbed out of the pool, water streaming down my body onto the concrete.
A slight breeze swept over the yard and goosebumps broke out over my body.
As quickly as it had come, the wind died down and the sun hit my skin full-force.
I stood there for a moment, relishing the feeling, letting the warmth chase away the chill of the cool water.
Squeezing the excess water from my hair, I walked back toward the shed. Bending down, I checked my clothes. In the short time I’d been in the pool, the heat of the sun had dried the fabric almost completely.
I dressed quickly, pulling my tank top and jeans back on. I pulled the money from the interior of my boot and took a moment to count it. The envelope held just over five thousand dollars. It was a start, but it wouldn’t get me too far.
Separating it into several stacks, I rolled up a majority of the bills and stuffed them into my boot.
The remaining bills, I dividing, shoving several into my bra and the rest into the pocket of my jeans.
I laced up my boots, then grabbed up Steele’s sweatshirt.
The hoodie would be too hot—not to mention far too noticeable—in the heat of the day, so I tied it around my waist instead.
I glanced toward the woods, uncertainty and worry settling over me. Steele’s men would be out for justice. They wouldn’t involve the police; they never did. But I’d set a fire—one that might have killed two people. They wouldn’t let that go. There wasn’t time for guilt or second-guessing. Not now.
I needed to keep moving, but wandering blindly into the city wouldn’t help me. If I wanted to stay under the radar, I needed a plan.
I tossed another quick glance at the neighboring houses before cautiously making my way around to the front of the shed. I kept low out of habit, even though the tall privacy fence blocked most of the view from outside.
The shed door came into view, and I slowed when I saw the small padlock hanging from the latch. The lock dangled loosely, not actually fastened. Whoever had last used the shed must have forgotten to secure it properly. It swung gently in the warm breeze, tapping softly against the metal latch.
I reached out and grasped the sun-warmed metal, then slipped it free. The click of metal against metal sounded louder than it should have in the stillness of the afternoon.
I automatically froze at the sound, then shook it off with a little laugh.
I was being ridiculous. Even if there wasn’t a soul around to see me, they never would have heard it.
Stepping back, I pulled open the door. Sunlight spilled into the dim space.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. When they did, hope burst through me and my knees went weak.
Almost as if my silent prayers had been answered, a bicycle leaned against the far wall. It was a girl’s bike, bright purple and black—and one size too small. But right now it looked like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Walking would take hours—time I couldn’t afford. I was already sore and exhausted. Walking would make me far more conspicuous. While I might be able to hitchhike, I knew it was illegal—not to mention dangerous. I needed to blend in, but stay safe.
A bike could get me to the city in a fraction of the time.
I stepped inside the shed and wrapped my hand around the handlebars. The metal felt warm from the heat trapped inside the small structure.
And—miracle of miracles—a matching black and purple helmet hung from the handlebar grip.
I lifted it slightly, running my fingers along the strap. With my hair tucked inside and the visor angled down, it would hide most of my face. Anyone passing by would see nothing more than another person riding through the neighborhood. Just another stranger on a bike.
A knot twisted in my chest. The men at the compound had no compunction about stealing. They took whatever they wanted—from stores, from people, from anyone too weak to stop them. Stealing had been normal there. Expected, even. But that wasn’t who I was.
Remorse washed over me as I looked around the small shed, imagining the kid who probably rode this bike through the neighborhood on warm summer evenings.
I didn’t want to take it. But if I didn’t…
The choice wasn’t really a choice at all. I needed to put as much space between myself and Steele’s men as quickly as possible. And this bike would be my salvation.
I exhaled slowly and reached into the pocket of my jeans.
Separating the bills, I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from the stack, then stepped over to the small workbench along the wall.
A few scattered gardening tools rested there—a pair of gloves, a packet of seeds, and a small hand trowel with dirt still clinging to the metal blade.
Carefully, I slid the bill onto the wooden surface and tucked it halfway beneath the trowel so it wouldn’t blow away. It wouldn’t make up for what I’d done—what I was about to do—but it would have to suffice.
Grabbing up the helmet, I slipped it onto my head. The strap clicked securely beneath my chin as I adjusted it, tugging a few loose strands of hair out of the way.
My pulse had started racing again.
Time to go.
I wheeled the bike out into the sunlight, the tires rolling softly across the concrete patio. Once outside, I pulled the shed door closed behind me and slipped the padlock back onto the latch exactly as I’d found it.
No one would notice right away. Hopefully not for hours—maybe even days, if I was lucky.
I steered the bike across the yard toward a small gate tucked into the fence line. It creaked softly when I pushed it open, and I paused again, holding my breath. The quiet neighborhood remained undisturbed.
My heart hammered wildly as I guided the bike through the gate and onto the narrow strip of grass beyond.
Just a little farther…
I climbed onto the seat, my knees bending awkwardly because of the smaller frame. For a second I wobbled, adjusting my balance as the bike rolled onto the street with a soft bump.
I held my breath as I rode past the first house, expecting a door to fly open or someone to shout behind me.
But no one did.
The street remained silent, and I pedaled harder. Faster. Wind rushed against my face as the bike picked up speed, the warm air whipping past my arms and tugging at the loose ends of my hair beneath the helmet.
House after house rushed past in my peripheral vision. By the time I reached the end of the street, my legs pumping harder with each second, a sudden burst of elation surged through me.
For the first time since the flames lit up the night sky behind the compound… I was free.