30
On the run
I‘m angry, pissed off, an I can only think about bad things. Damn Capulet, son of a bitch, asshole!!
He had drugged my man! He made him confess my intentions by injecting him with pentothal! That was foul play! Very dirty! And now he expected me to go motorcycle riding with him? For what? To play happy family or to keep me under control?
Lucky that Andrey didn”t tell him my intention was to kill him and wipe out his whole family, although he came to that conclusion on his own. He didn’t need to be very smart; I would have thought the same, although I don’t know if I would have taken it as lightly as he did.
The fact that Romeo knew my intentions left me walking a tightrope, or in other words, exposed, with my ass in the wind, and that gave him an advantage.
He was as bastardly and cunning as me, though more twisted, because I wouldn’t have hesitated to put a bullet between his eyes. He, on the other hand, wanted to push me to the limit, to launch a macabre game against me. I saw it in his eyes; he wanted to be the hunter and me the prey.
What I couldn’t understand was why he wanted to make me believe he wasn”t responsible. To keep me off guard? To make me lower my defenses? Or because he wanted a battle of wits? I myself had participated in one of the most macabre games of the year, a few months ago, in which my uncle lost his life.
People like us have different limits than most. We thrive on strong emotions, and I feared my husband felt the same way. Did he want a long haul? Well, he was going to get it, and when I reached the finish line proving my suspicions, I would enjoy slowly killing him with my own hands.
I pressed the accelerator of the Divo and pushed it to nearly 200 km/h. For the past ten minutes, I had the feeling that I was being followed. A black car that I didn’t recognize was trailing behind me. It kept me in sight, overtaking whenever I did. Either it was a fool who wanted to test his strength against the wonder I was driving, or someone was on my tail.
”Alright, bastard, let”s see if you”re really following me or if it”s just my paranoia from the argument with my beloved husband.”
Given Romeo”s behavior, I wouldn”t have been surprised if he had sent one of his men to spy on me.
I sped up on the curve to overtake the Peugeot 206 that was going at 20 km/h. People like that should have their licenses revoked, as they cause accidents with their excessive caution. It was probably being driven by some damn old man from the post-war era.
I steered the Bugatti to the left and my stomach turned. I reacted just in time, before the oncoming truck could crush me. It honked as if there was no tomorrow, throwing a bunch of
insults and obscene gestures at me.
Damn! I almost crashed! My heart was about to burst out of my chest and a slight tremor ran through my right hand, gripping the steering wheel.
My mind raced.
What if Romeo wanted me to have an accident? What if he wanted to kill me before I could kill him? He had the perfect alibi; he was with the damn kid and I had taken off with his car. Plus, I was a woman... Some men thought that we exhibited a strange kind of gender disability when driving, when it was clear that we drove much better than them.
The sun hit me right in the eyes, and I didn”t have glasses to shield them, I hadn”t thought to put them in my bag. My heart rate was on the verge of collapse and my adrenaline was spiking, I swerved again and this time I managed to overtake without a problem, as did the car that was tailing me and getting closer to my tail.
But what car was it? I couldn”t make out the make because of the excess light that made my eyes tear up. I hit the blue leather steering wheel. I loved the sun, but not like this. I had to speed up more. I pressed down on the sole of my shoe and an explosion made me scream and almost lose control of the vehicle. I let out a curse in Russian when I heard a bang.
But what the hell! Someone had shot at me and the rear window of the car shattered. Romeo would be furious. Wait! Maybe that was exactly what he intended.
I had none of my men nearby to alert, nor could I pull out my gun to shoot without losing visibility. The curves didn’t allow me to turn around and fire. And that damn guy was still behind me.
My only option was to keep driving like a bat out of hell and try not to die in the process, either from bullets or in a crash while trying to overtake.
Another car appeared in front of me on the next curve. I had
to overtake it or I was going to be in deep trouble.
A second impact embedded itself in the passenger seat. I smelled the burned leather and took a gamble without looking. Either I would die riddled with bullets or I would speed up as if there was no tomorrow and barely escape.
A car was coming head-on. I held my breath. I crossed even the toes of my feet scraping milliseconds that would decide my fate. I closed my eyes before the imminent collision, turning the steering wheel to the right.
3, 2, 1...
The honking was deafening.
I didn”t crash! And there was a line of five vehicles too close together for that armed bastard to overtake!
”Fuck you!” I wanted to shout, but I preferred to keep pushing the pedal and reach 350 km/h. My body shook, a damn stone on the road and I would be flying through the air. Sweat glued the knit dress to my back. The curves had ended and a Mercadona appeared on my right. ”Civilization in sight, now I had to decide where to go to lose track of my assassin.”
I couldn’t enter the supermarket with the wrecked Bugatti; it would attract too much attention. On my left, I found a sign pointing to the exclusive golf club my father-in-law had praised on my wedding day. It seemed a suitable place. Surely they would have parking, a restaurant, and a place where I could hide until I could call my men.
I couldn’t enter the roundabout the way I was going to, but I didn”t care. I earned the third honk of the morning from the car that was calmly circulating in it. The driver wore a look of extreme fright and his wife was half out of the window shouting at me that they were with the kids. I crossed when I shouldn’t have, I already knew that, but they weren’t being chased by gunfire on a road with no visibility.
”Fuck everyone! My life was the most important thing.
I glanced in the rearview mirror; it seemed that I had lost the driver of the black car, however, I didn”t want to declare victory just yet.
I had just experienced some of the most distressing minutes of my life. My mind replayed what had happened until I saw the entrance to the club and the valet.
I didn’t realize the speed I was still carrying until the tires screeched on the asphalt from braking.
I breathed several times and wiped the sweat off my forehead.
The valet opened the door for me. My body was shaking like a newborn’s rattle. I couldn’t feel my arms or legs. The accumulated tension was overwhelming.
The man blinked several times as he noticed the shattered glass that sparkled like diamonds inside the vehicle.
”A rock on the road,” I excused myself, trying to calm down. In places like that, workers were trained to accept any explanation the clients provided and, above all, not to ask questions. He nodded.
”A tough break, if I may say so, madam,” I nodded. I got out of the vehicle with my knees like jelly.
”Park it in a discreet place and I’ll give you a good tip. If you can cover it, that would be best. I wouldn’t want anyone to get cut.”
”I’ll put a frost cover on it if that suits the madam.”
”I see we understand each other.” I opened my wallet, pulled out a hundred-euro bill, and slipped it into his vest pocket. His eyes sparkled. I didn’t remove my hand from inside; I needed to feel the security my weapon gave me.
I entered the club and the first thing I saw was an information desk. A smiling girl with a name badge on her chest welcomed me.
”Can I help you with anything?” she asked kindly.
”I doubt it, though you can try,” I muttered impertinently.
She offered me a timid smile.
”Would you like information about our courses, for you or your children?”
”Do I look like a mother?” She swallowed hard.
”Perhaps play a game, maybe?”
”They didn’t hire you for your intuition, did they?” My dress was very short and I was wearing stiletto heels. She seemed nervous.
”Um… Sorry, it’s my first week and...”
”It shows,” I cut her off. ”Do you have a restaurant?” I glanced around.
A few steps away, an elegant man dressed as a golfer was waiting his turn at the counter. As expected, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
”Yes, but it”s only for members or guests of members.”
”My father-in-law is a member.”
”Wonderful, have you met with him?”
”No.” She looked sorry.
”It’s just that if you don’t come with him, or another of our members, I can’t let you in. I’m sorry.”
I looked at the forty-something man who continued to ogle me.
”I’m meeting with him.” I pointed at him. The man looked surprised. The receptionist too.
”With Mr. Davencroft?” She seemed incredulous.
”Yes, we’ve arranged to have lunch,” I confirmed, approaching him to offer a smile and wrapping myself around his arm.
”Well, I don’t know if my wife…” he excused himself gently.
”Your wife doesn’t need to find out,” I winked at him. He cleared his throat nervously. ”Come on, Daven, show me around.”
I was about to drag him with me when the receptionist exclaimed in a muffled tone.
”I need your details to register you!”
”Nikita Koroleva,” I declared, without turning towards her. My focus was fixed on the entrance door, my hand still inside the bag in case I needed to pull out the gun and start shooting. I turned my gaze back to my unexpected guide and urged him to take me to the restaurant, claiming I was famished. It wasn’t a lie.
”I need more details for you to enter! That’s not enough! Madam, please!” The receptionist’s shrill voice grated on my ears, I was about to snap at her when another much graver voice interrupted what I was about to say.
”She’s my daughter-in-law, Gabriela, you don’t need more information.”
I spun around one hundred and eighty degrees, released myself from Davenport’s arm, and the figure of my father-in-law materialized in the entrance door.”