34. Little & Large
Chapter thirty-four
Little they have all had my back for the last year. Even Owen is in his own way. It’s my time to step up and watch out for them.
Hold it together, Charlie . Even my internal voice is shaky. I start again. Keeping all of my emotions back and contained.
Guys,
I’m sorry
Why am I crying?
Owen,
Absolutely not. Even writing his name seems too much right now, so I keep it simple.
For Safe Keeping, I’m Sorry.
Charlie xx
I feel like I’m saying goodbye. Maybe I am.
Wiping away the tears with the palm of my hand, I place everything in the second envelope and write the next address to Cerberus.
Meeting the Courier at the entrance to the park a few minutes later, she reassures me they would be delivered in just over three hours and I hand over the envelopes with shaky fingers. Watching closely, she climbs onto her motorbike, places the helmet on her head, and speeds away, taking a little bit of my hope with her.
A few minutes after leaving the park, I notice I am being followed by two men.
They're lurking. I had my suspicions, but when they kept looking away whenever I would turn, I knew. I feel sick, but the adrenaline running through my veins keeps me going, my heart beating like crazy against my ribs with every turn I make.
In all honestly, I thought that if you did this for a living, follow people I mean, you would be much better at not being seen. Like Owen, he’s a ghost in his business. Not these men. Ones taller than the other, like little and large, one fatter, one thinner. Not that either are fat, just not as fit as they should be if they are out to catch someone.
They even look suspicious, like they really want to hurt someone. Well, that someone would be me, I guess. Everyone seems to walk out the way as they pass, and when they don’t see them coming, these poor unsuspecting people are forced out of the way.
Roughly.
I keep trying to lose them, slipping into side streets and coming out further down, but they always seem to find me. I recognise them both from the information I spent last night looking through. Foot soldiers. That’s their rank, willing to do anything to move up. I can’t remember their names, but they definitely work for the organisation.
I hope Owen got my message. It’s not even a fraction of the stuff I have on the Summers’ organisation, but just giving them the faces of the two men who attacked me in Greece, along with some very damming words about wanting to kill me, that should be enough to raise charges against the two, or at least hold them with attempted murder.
Attempted murder.
The realisation that people are out to kill me comes in waves. I’m grateful it’s flows in and out, because if it stayed with me, I’m not sure I’d be able to move. The fear that would overtake me, would be crippling.
I’m suppressing it all. I have to. There is no time to sit in the moment and deal with what’s happening right now.
Shit, shit, shit. It doesn’t matter what I do. I can’t seem to lose them. I’ve tried everything other than actually running away. Pressing myself up against an industrial-sized bin at the back of a small shop, I slide behind it in an attempt to hide. My pulse quickens as I try and think of something to get me away from them.
Peaking my head out from behind just a fraction, I watch as the two men get a little closer. Shit , I’m gulping down breaths to stay quiet. I’m doing my best to not make a sound. I know they can’t hear my heart rate or the blood rushing through my veins, but it’s all I hear.
I need to get back to the shithole of a room, hide for a while, then I can disappear.
Maybe not disappear. I have a plan forming in the back of my mind. It’s probably not the best.
Risky? Yes.
Dangerous? Most likely.
Should I be thinking of doing it on my own? Absolutely not . There is just no way on this planet that I’m going to involve anyone else. I care too much for that. These men are nasty bastards.
I’m not bringing that to anyone I care about.
I’d also like to actually live my life, you know, not hide and be on the run from an absolute total wanker that just wants to kill me.
So, there’s that too.
This is too close, for my liking, there only a few feet in front of me. I need to remember my training. All those years I’ve had to practice, I can do this.
I really want to close my eyes and pretend that I’m not here. Pretend that I’m not watching as the bigger one with huge dirty, callused hands, grip the back of the bin, and starts to move it slowly to the side. My stomach and heart drop. He’s making the gap bigger between me, the bin, and the wall.
Fuck.
They know I’m here, then it clicks; give them what they are not expecting. Be a little crazy.
I shout, watching for their reaction. It’s perfect. Each looking as surprised as the other, they jump back slightly as their fight or flight response takes hold.
Grabbing onto the side of the bin for support, my foot connects with the larger one’s chest, winding him and, in a front kick, I put everything into with the full force of my heel and weight. When he starts to double over, letting out a grunt, my other foot connects with his dick. Hard. He folds over, trying to cup his hopefully bruised and broken manhood just as my fist smashes him in the side of his face. His head snaps to the side, and he stumbles backwards, cursing like a sailor on leave.
His stumble causes him to jolt the small one as he tries to come for me and unceremoniously they both fall to the side, on top of one another. Giving me enough room to get around them, just.
As I start to run, a hand catches my foot and I fall to the floor with a thud, scraping my hand on the gravel.
Letting out a frustrated grunt, I try to pull away, but the smaller one, his grip firm and determined, around my ankle, yanking me back, his fingers digging into my flesh. I kick out using my free foot, aiming for his face, his face flat against my trainer as blood bursts from his nose, the larger one’s too busy making strange noises, and mumbling about me being a bitch. I keep kicking as hard as I can, pained groans leave his swollen lips, trying to pull myself away in the direction of the street, until he lets go.
He let go?
Scrambling to my feet, I run, not stopping to think. My knees and hands throbbing, the grazes on my palms stinging as l clutch my bag harder, swinging it onto my back.
Running as far as I can, I only stop for breath a few streets away, ducking into an alley to hide. Sitting down on the ground, I watch as people pass with no idea I’m here, my chin resting on my knees, my whole bodies aching from the fight, and shaking with fear. They almost had me. I need to make sure they don’t follow me back to the room. I can’t risk them finding me again. Standing up, the pain in my hands bites as I brush myself down. I take my time going back, never in a straight line, waiting and watching everyone around me.
Hours have passed in fear and hopelessness. Once inside the room, I let out a sigh of relief, locking the door behind me.
I stand silently for a long time, my hand reaching for the necklace that’s no longer there. I wait, just to see if I can hear anyone approaching, but it sounds like the house is empty.
I can’t hear anything; I think I’m alone.
Slumping to my knees, I wince at the jolt of pain the action brings after how hard I fell on them back in the alley. In fact, my heart jumps slightly, in an unsteady rhythm. How is this what my life has come to, running, hiding, planning on taking down an organisation on my own, and being okay with Owen being with someone else? That comes out of nowhere. Owen , okay, not really. I’m not okay with it. I’m really not okay with it, but I do want him to be happy, and he looked happy. That’s all that matters, right?
I’ll get over him, eventually.
I’m shaking, my whole body is trembling.
Rubbing my hands down my face, I feel the sting from where the gravel has embedded itself into the palm of my hand.
Time to clean up. Taking a bottle of water from my bag, I rinse my hands as best I can. With nowhere for the water to run other than the floor, I let it fall, soaking the already stained carpet. Dabbing them dry with my hoodie, I apply some antibacterial wipes that came in the bag of supplies Hank and Bridget left for me. Each press of the wipe stings like mad. Then I inspect my right knuckles, which are already bruised from hitting that man’s face.
Once I’m done, I open my laptop, thankful it’s in one piece, and starts without question. I start the process of scanning the files. It’s become an obsession almost to see what I’m missing, to see if there is anything that can put them all away, to take down the whole organisation and not just the one man. The sinking feeling that’s desperately trying to push its way through and overtake me keeps rising, but I won’t let it, not until this is over.
I can’t and won’t let it have me.
My eyes feel heavy as I focus on the screen. Yesterday I spent all my time looking through the files I have to see if… I don’t know, I could magically find an escape route back to my life. All I found was what I already knew. I’m fucked if they find me. It looks like they have found me twice now. I have a good memory for faces after trying to memorise as many as I could over the last twelve hours, just in case I was followed. I guess that worked out today.
Drinking the rest of the water from the bottle, I dig out a protein bar and eat it. That will have to be my main meal for now. I need to get some more food, or I won’t have the energy to do this.
I just need to decide what to do next. I have to leave without being seen or followed. I also need to find my way to a place I promised the guys I would never go.
Guilt washes over me. I said I wouldn’t go there. The fear in their eyes, when they thought I’d been. I’m sorry, but I have to do this.
I guess things change, right?
I must have drifted off, because I’m startled awake by the noise coming from the floor below. Shouting, maybe even fighting. Listening a little harder, I try to make out the words…
“Who the fuck are you?” I hear a woman shout, but she stops abruptly.
“You have no right to just break down the door and come in here,” a guy says at the same time. There’s a scuffle, I imagine a few punches being thrown, then silence. Shit. Heavy footsteps pound up the stairs and the tension in me grows. They can’t have found me? How are they doing this?
Then it goes silent again and I hear men whispering. “… This one has to be hers.”
I’m on my feet before they can finish the sentence, shoving my things in my bag. There is a thud on my room door. It reverberates around me, making me move faster.
I open the window, sliding up the small single pane. Climbing out onto the rusting, rickety escape steps, closing the window behind me as quietly as I can. It’s dark, only the street lights lighting my way down, I’m flying down the metal steps, as soon as I hear the door to my room being kicked in, slipping as my feet try to make traction, gripping the railings as the levels change, twisting and turning. Gasping to try and control my breathing as I run, panic trying to claw its way in.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, and heading to the main street, through the alley that’s dimly lit by a yellowing light, it’s deadly dark. Gulping down breaths as silently as I can, I realise I must have been asleep for longer than I thought, my mind’s slowly catching up with my body.
Trying my best to keep to the shadows, I need to keep out of sight. Placing my hood over my head, I run as fast as my legs can take me, swinging my backpack onto my shoulders as I go.
Coming to the outskirts of the town, I can’t just run anymore. I don’t know where I’m going. Focus . I have no idea where I am. I need to find a place to hide, where I can… get some sort of direction planned.
Moving along the back of a cute little housing estate that’s now cast in shadows, I spot a house in darkness. I head to the back garden, through the side gate, and find a kid’s playhouse open. Lucky kid, lucky me. I kind of feel bad for taking this as my hiding place, but hopefully the owners will never find out.
Crouching down, I wedge myself in the small two-story wooden structure, which appears to be fully furnished with every toy kitchen appliance you could buy. Even down to the fake food, stacked in the mini-fridge next to the tiny table and chairs, ready for a tea party. It’s cute.
Standing up as best I can, I take a peek at the second level. It’s more of a balcony. It makes me want to be a kid again, or at least have one of my own, so I can do this for them. Ha, stupid thought .
This is better than the room I just paid for. And won’t be going back to.
Trying not to disturb anything, I place my things on the floor, pulling out the map I bought from the shop earlier and sit crossed legged on the floor to plan my route. Having just enough light from the fairy lights to see the paper in front of me, it doesn’t take long.
I eat another protein bar and take another long drink of water. Reaching into my bag, I pull out some of the loose change I have and place a few coins in the kitchen for the kid to find whenever they play in here next. It’s not much, but it will have to do.
Taking what I have and making sure everything is still as it was when I find it, I close the painted pink door behind me, head towards the gate and start walking.
I won’t make the same mistake of being found again, or the mistake of going to a built-up area, not until I need to anyway.