Chapter Fifty-Seven Ella
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Ella
The car jostles me in my seat, but I barely register it. My elbows rest on my knees, face buried in my hands and eyes closed against the blur of everything that’s happened.
Onward and upward.
It’s what I’ve been telling myself. Maybe if I keep repeating it, I’ll finally start believing it.
The sooner I reach America, the sooner I can start over and see Rhia again. My life will be stable and predictable once more, just the way I like it.
No more kidnappings. No more being drugged and carted around like a sack of potatoes.
And if I’m pregnant…
Well, I’ll deal with that when I know for sure.
The thought of a baby possibly growing inside me sends a ripple of panic through my chest. It’s followed by something deeper, something I don’t want to name.
It drags me back to our last night together, to all the emotions running so high.
“Angel, I’m finally back home.”
It’s like I can still feel his breath on my skin, hear his words as he sank slowly into me. A longing so deep it felt carved into my bones raced through me.
It had been the same for me, a homecoming. And now I will never know it again.
A lump forms in my throat, and my eyes sting with tears I refuse to let fall.
Suddenly, the air shifts.
The space around me thickens, just like before a storm hits. Heat slams through me so suddenly that I gasp.
Oh no. Have I conjured him up?
The tingling spreads. My pulse stutters, and my eyes snap open.
No, I’m not imagining this.
“Garrett,” I whisper. “He’s near.”
Garrett’s gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror. “De Marco?”
“Yes. I’m sure of it.”
He scans the street, his jaw tightening.
“Yeah. I see him. Down the block. There’s a group of men with him. They’re all spreading out.”
The tension in the van thickens. I sink lower, my heart hammering so hard it hurts.
“He’s looking this way,” Garrett says, then quickly adds, “but he can’t see you. You’re well hidden in the back.”
“Turn,” I hiss. “If I can sense him, he’ll feel me too.”
He doesn’t argue. He takes the next corner, smooth and controlled, blending into the slow-moving traffic of a side street. My hand grips the seatbelt so hard that my knuckles ache.
Will Tiero work out I’m in this car?
My stomach twists and churns like a storm-tossed sea.
And still, every part of me wants to climb to the front, to catch one last glimpse of him in the mirror. The pull is so strong I have to push myself deeper into the seat to resist.
I remind myself of the blond man at the De Marco club, and what Tiero likely did to him just for touching my arm. The flash of fear from that night floods through me again.
If Tiero finds me with Garrett, he’ll kill him. Never mind being dragged back into the prison I barely escaped.
Another turn. Another breath.
The van slips between buildings, the heat coursing through my veins gradually subsiding.
Still, my heart races so fast it’s like I’m vibrating. God, I hate these adrenaline rushes.
Garrett checks the mirror again.
“No one’s following us. We’re clear.”
I sag against the seat, trembling from head to toe.
I got away from Tiero again. But just like at the train station in Monza, there’s no joy in that victory. It feels like my heart is being torn in two.
I’m doing the right thing, I remind myself for what seems like the hundredth time.
Tiero’s world isn’t for me. I’m not built for it.
Sometimes love really isn’t enough.
So why can’t he accept that?
I silence the small voice inside me that cheers because he doesn’t and feed the one that warns me to stay afraid. To remember what would happen if he caught me. A shiver runs through me, that fear now tangible in my body.
It’s a great motivator. I need to use it.
The van keeps humming along the road, its constant vibration dulling my thoughts and helping the adrenaline slowly drain out of me.
My breathing is even again, my pulse steadying. A strange calmness has taken over, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.
No… no, I am relieved. It means we really did get away.
But every time I blink, I see him again. Tiero’s eyes, the way he’s always looked at me like I was both salvation and sin.
Dammit, I can’t go there.
I force myself to look out the front windscreen instead, needing to focus on something else.
What will Tiero do now?
He must have felt me vanish again, that strange thread between us going quiet.
Will he be angry that my trace has gone cold, or will he look as lost and haunted as he did when the train pulled away in Monza?
I sink deeper into my seat, chasing away the image before it can take root.
Minutes pass in silence. Garrett takes a phone call, his tone cool and professional. I barely register the words.
While my body is calm now, my mind seems brittle, like one wrong thought could shatter me.
When the sunlight disappears and the sounds around us change, it takes me a second to realize we’ve turned off the main road. The van slows, the low rumble echoing differently.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“We’re changing vehicles,” Garrett says. “Just in case De Marco figures out you were in the van and decides to track it.”
I blink, dragging myself back to the present. “Right. Of course.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. Thankfully, one of us is thinking straight.
He parks, and the faint smell of oil and concrete replaces the crisp air from outside. My fingers fumble with the seatbelt before I climb out, my legs stiff from tension.
The garage is dimly lit, large enough for two vehicles. Before I can take in much else, a door on the far wall swings open. A blur of movement floods the space, followed by the sound of heels clacking against concrete.
A whirlwind of a woman bursts in, spots Garrett, and lets out a delighted squeal. She sprints toward him, throws her arms around his neck, and jumps, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He catches her effortlessly, laughing as he spins her once.
This must be Miranda.
He almost swallows her up with the size of his body, one arm hooked under her to support her weight while the other wraps around her back. She clings to him, legs locked around him.
Garrett catches a handful of her long blonde hair, twining it around his wrist as he tilts her head exactly where he wants it, kissing her without the slightest restraint.
I stare, half fascinated, half embarrassed to be watching them.
Were they on their honeymoon in Greece, and I ruined it with this mission to rescue me? The thought makes my cheeks burn.
Miranda finally pulls back, pressing her forehead to his. “I missed you, babe,” she drawls, her Southern accent warm and easy.
Garrett lowers her to the ground and guides her toward me. I’m still standing rooted to the same spot, unsure whether to smile or look away.
I extend a hand. “Hi, I’m Ella. You must be Miranda, one of my guardian angels.”
Garrett chuckles. “Oh, she is no angel.”
“Shush now,” Miranda says with a wink. She takes my hand only to ignore it a second later, pulling me into a hug that smells faintly of vanilla and engine oil.
“Oh my, your hair is so lovely,” she says, brushing a few strands through her fingers. Then her grin widens. “This makeover will be so much fun. Trust me.”
I don’t share her enthusiasm. I like the way I look. But if cutting and coloring my hair is part of securing my freedom, so be it.
But I’d like to avoid talking about it for a while longer and change the subject.
“How long have you guys been married?” I ask, praying I didn’t ruin a honeymoon.
“We’ve been married two years, five months, and eleven days,” she replies, batting her eyelashes at her husband.
Phew. What a relief. But also, really?
They act like newlyweds. I’m jealous. Watching them is like looking through glass at a world I’ll never have again.
“I know, I know,” Miranda continues. “The way we’re carrying on, you’d think we haven’t seen each other for weeks.”
“Sure felt like it,” Garrett says, bending low to kiss his much shorter wife again. Swoon.
Miranda laughs, giving his arm a squeeze before turning toward the silver hatchback waiting beside us.
It’s plain, forgettable… a regular car for regular people, not mob girlfriends on the run.
“Now let’s get going,” Garrett says, his expression hardening back into focus.
“Lex texted. We’ve got a destination and a place to stay.”