Chapter 30
M y stomach growls loudly in the aftermath of our intense encounter. I realize I'm absolutely starving. We've barely eaten anything since yesterday. Just some stale protein bars Daniel had stashed in his glove compartment.
"What's in those bags?" I ask, eyeing the plastic shopping bags he dropped by the door. Something smells incredible.
Daniel smiles, a rare softness crossing his features. "Food. Figured you'd be hungry."
He helps me up from the bed, his touch gentle now that our passionate moment has passed. I wince slightly, my body deliciously sore in places I didn't know could be sore.
"You okay?" he asks, concern flashing in his eyes.
"More than okay," I assure him. "Just... well-used."
He kisses my forehead before retrieving the bags. "Let's get you fed."
We sit cross-legged on the bed, the food spread between us. Daniel has brought an impressive haul. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and biscuits from some local place. My mouth waters at the sight.
"This smells like heaven," I moan, tearing into a chicken thigh. The crispy skin gives way to juicy meat, and I close my eyes in bliss. "God, I didn't realize how hungry I was."
Daniel watches me eat with amusement, taking smaller bites of his own food. I notice he's not saying much, just observing me with his blue eyes. After a few minutes of me chattering about how good the food is, I realize he's barely spoken.
"You're quiet again," I say, wiping my fingers on a napkin.
He shrugs. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
"Next steps. Safe houses. Routes out of the country if needed."
I reach for his hand. "But it's more than that, isn't it? You've gone all... soldier mode."
Daniel takes a deep breath. "Whenever I'm in stress, I choose silence. Old habit from the Rangers. When things get tense, I go internal. Process. Plan."
"And you're stressed now?" I ask softly.
"Not about us," he clarifies quickly. "About keeping you safe."
I nod, understanding. "So you retreat into your head."
"Affirmative," he says, then catches himself with a small smile. "I mean, yes."
We eat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Daniel reaches for another bag.
"Got you some clothes," he says. "Nothing fancy, but they'll fit."
He pulls out jeans, t-shirts, a hoodie, underwear, and a pair of sneakers. Simple, practical items in neutral colors. I hold up a soft gray t-shirt against my chest.
"How did you know my size?" I ask.
A hint of a smile crosses his face. "I've been your security detail for years, Lu. I notice things."
I slip the shirt over my head, surprised by how well it fits. The cotton feels heavenly against my skin after wearing nothing but the slip since yesterday. The jeans are a bit loose but workable with the belt he's included.
"They suit you," Daniel says, his eyes warming as he takes me in.
"Better than Valentino?" I tease.
"Much better," he says seriously. "This is the real you."
I look down at myself in these simple clothes. No designer labels, no family expectations, no image to maintain. Just me. It feels strangely liberating.
"Thank you," I say, meaning it for more than just the clothes.
Daniel nods, understanding passing between us. He goes back to eating, falling into that comfortable silence again. I don't push him to talk more.
I watch Lu finish her food, savoring every bite like it's her first real meal in days. Maybe it is. The stress of the wedding preparations probably killed her appetite. She's quiet now, lost in thought as she wipes her hands on a napkin.
I clear away our trash, tossing it in the bin by the small desk. The motel room feels smaller now that we're not lost in each other. Reality is creeping back in around the edges.
I grab the remote and turn on the TV, keeping the volume low. Some mindless sitcom fills the screen with canned laughter. Lu settles back against the headboard, and I join her, our shoulders touching. The normalcy of it feels strange. Like we're playing house while the world burns around us.
She hasn't spoken much since our earlier conversation. I don't push. Sometimes silence is what you need to process everything that's happening. God knows I've lived most of my life in it.
The sitcom plays on, neither of us really watching. I feel Lu shift beside me, and when I glance over, she's looking at me with those big brown eyes.
"Daniel," she says softly. "I need to talk to Zoe."
My body tenses automatically. "Not a good idea."
"I need to make sure she's okay after covering for us," Lu insists. "She risked everything to help us escape."
I consider this. Zoe has proven herself loyal to Lu, but any contact is a risk. Damiano could be monitoring her calls, or worse, she could be under pressure to help locate us.
But Lu's right. Zoe put herself in danger for us. We owe her this much.
"Thirty seconds," I say firmly. "Not a word about where we are or where we're headed."
Lu nods, relief washing over her face.
I get up from the bed and go to my bag.
I pull out the burner phone from my bag, along with the battery and SIM card. I assemble it quickly.
"I'll dial for you," I tell Lu. "Remember, thirty seconds max."
When I power up the phone, the screen immediately lights up with notifications.
132 missed calls. All from Enzo's number.
"Fuck," I mutter, staring at the screen.
"What is it?" Lu asks, her voice tight with worry.
I'm about to dismiss it—Enzo probably got the number from Damiano and is trying to track us—when a text message appears.
MOVE NOW. COMPROMISED.
Every instinct in my body goes on high alert. I'm on my feet in an instant, gun already in hand.
"Get behind me," I command Lu. "Now."
To her credit, she doesn't question me. She slides off the bed and moves behind me, her breathing quick but controlled.
I dial Enzo's number, keeping my body between Lu and the door.
He answers on the first ring. "About fucking time!" Enzo's voice explodes through the speaker. "Get out! Now! Damiano sent a team to your location. They're already at the motel!"
"How—"
"No time! Move!"
I end the call, shoving the phone in my pocket. My mind shifts into combat mode, assessing and planning in fractions of seconds.
"We need to go. Now." I grab my wallet and tuck my gun into my waistband. No time for the rest of our things.
I turn to find Lu already has her coat on, the car keys in her hand. Her face is pale but determined, eyes wide with fear but focused. She's ready.
"South exit," I tell her, taking the keys. "Stay close. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. Understand?"
She nods once, sharp and clear.
I crack the door open, scanning the hallway. Empty for now, but I can hear footsteps at the far end of the corridor. Heavy boots. Multiple sets.
"Now," I whisper, pulling Lu into the hallway.
We move quickly but quietly toward the exit sign at the opposite end from the approaching footsteps. Lu keeps pace with me, her breathing controlled despite the terror I know she must be feeling.
The exit door is just ahead. Ten feet. Five.
Behind us, a voice calls out. "Room 14! Check it!"
I push Lu through the exit door, following right behind her. The stairwell is dark, lit only by a dim emergency light. We descend quickly, my hand on Lu's back guiding her.
"Car's around the corner," I whisper as we reach the ground floor. "When we get outside, we run. Don't look back."
The exit door leads to the south side of the building. I push it open carefully, scanning for threats before pulling Lu through.
The night air hits us as we emerge into the parking lot. No sign of Damiano's men yet, but they won't be far behind.
"Run," I tell her, and we sprint toward where I parked the car in the shadows.
I slam the car into drive the second Lu's door closes, tires screeching as we tear out of the parking lot. The rearview mirror shows two men bursting through the exit door, weapons drawn. Too late.
I take the first turn hard, then immediately another, putting buildings between us and our pursuers. Lu grips the dashboard, her knuckles white, but she doesn't make a sound. Not a scream, not a whimper. Just focused breathing as I navigate the unfamiliar streets at dangerous speeds.
"Are they following us?" she asks, voice steady despite everything.
I check the mirrors again. "Not yet. But they will be."
How did they find us? I was careful—untraceable car, cash only, fake names. I disabled the GPS on my phone, and the burner shouldn't have been trackable until I powered it up.
Unless...
I glance at Lu, really seeing her for the first time since we fled. She's wearing the coat Zoe gave her.
"Fuck," I mutter, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. "The coat."
"What?" Lu looks down at herself, confused.
"Take it off. Now." My voice is sharp with urgency. "It's Zoe's coat, right? She gave it to you when we were leaving?"
Understanding dawns in Lu's eyes. "You think Damiano?—"
I swerve onto a dark side street, cutting the headlights. "Get it off. Throw it out the window."
Lu doesn't hesitate. She shrugs out of the coat, struggling in the confined space.
"There could be a tracker sewn into the lining," I explain, checking the mirrors again. Still clear, but that won't last.
Lu's face hardens as she realizes the implications. Her sister-in-law's kindness turned into a trap—whether Zoe knew it or not.
"Roll down your window," I instruct.
The cold night air rushes in as Lu cranks down the window. She bundles the coat and throws it out without looking back. It disappears into the darkness behind us.
"I'm sorry," I say, accelerating again. "I should have checked. That was sloppy."
"It's not your fault," Lu says, hugging herself against the chill. "I didn't think of it either."
I take another random turn, then another, creating a chaotic path no one could predict. We need to put as much distance as possible between us and that tracker.
"Do you think Zoe knew?" Lu asks quietly.
I consider this for a moment. "No. She wouldn't have risked you like that. Damiano probably bugged her things without telling her."
Lu nods, accepting this. "Where do we go now?"
"We need a new car. New clothes. New everything." I check the fuel gauge—three-quarters full. Enough to get us far away from here. "We start over."
I reach across the console and take her hand. Her fingers are ice cold, but they grip mine with surprising strength.
"We'll be okay," I tell her, and I mean it.
"I know," she says simply. And that's all I need to hear.