CHAPTER THIRTEEN
RENA
I hate being cornered. By slimy, lowlife assholes no less.
Motherfuckers at every damn exit. Wall-to-wall drunk patrons. Boxed in. The entire building is pulsating with a no-way-out incantation.
There’s probably a part of my brain that should be sending a signal for me to be afraid. But honestly, all I feel is pissed as hell. I had a plan. Have a blast or get caught. Maybe both, if I was lucky. Either way, I knew I’d be content. Because I was simply over all the bullshit. So, I thwarted the pain by leaping for more. Chiseled out another sliver of freedom.
Not my first choice, but a sliver nonetheless.
But apprehended by the wrong man? Men. Not in the freaking plan.
Squatting on the floor, I snatch a black hoodie from my backpack to conceal my hair and pale skin and scurry through the people, dashing in search of an outside-the-box alternative. I could’ve stayed put, garnered protection from security, but my stomach flipped when those guys started interrogating me. I’ve been around enough villains in my life to know when I’m in the presence of genuine evil. And there are so many of them here, evidently intent on making me a key player in their story. Involving anyone else will only get the rent-a-cops killed.
I scan the crevices of the room, mining for a way to extricate myself and halting when I see it.
Sometimes, the only way out is up.