Chapter Eleven
SHAY
“Shay,” Rocco calls my name, gently stroking my arm.
“Huh, what?” I ask, snapping my eyes open. “Jeez, I must’ve dozed off.”
“A couple of hours ago, yeah,” Rocco says.
We’re in a parking lot, and a huge sign overhead reads: Myrtle’s Motel. A few of the lights are missing from the blinking sign, and it looks more like Myte Moel.
It’s a raised motel block, with ten rooms on the bottom and ten more on the second floor. A vending machine in front of the reception room has a hand-written piece of paper that reads: “Out of Order. Inquire Within.”
“Where are we?” I rub sleep from my eyes and stretch with a yawn.
“We’re in Pennsylvania. Scranton, I think,” he says. “I wanted to put distance between us and Boston before I took a rest.”
“Do you think we’re far enough?”
“Time will tell, but I’ve booked a room, and we can rest up a while.”
“What’s our plan from here?” I ask. We get out of the car, and Rocco collects our bags from the trunk.
“Head west for now. I’ve got a few friends that way that might be able to get us out of the country.” Rocco leads me through the parking lot, and up a rusty staircase to the second floor. A light is flickering on the overhanging balcony leading to the room.
“Out of the country?”
I don’t want to leave America. I feel as if my life has just started, and now I have to pack it up and move away? Not that I plan on staying at Rocco’s side much longer. With our arrival at this dingy motel, my escape is only a few hours away.
I almost feel bad pretending to go along with Rocco’s escape plan. He’s been kind to me since we met, and I appreciate it. But I can’t hand myself over to this life so easily.
Rocco stops at the second room we pass. He slots a key into the door and opens it.
“We can’t stay here, Shay. Emilio’s got eyes and ears everywhere. If we don’t disappear, he’s going to find us.”
“I…” There’s no use in fighting him. If I pretend to be on board with his escape plan, he won’t think twice about me slipping away into the night. “I understand.”
The room is small and dingy. There’s a small sofa in front of an old box TV. A double bed rests against one wall, while a kitchen counter holds a kettle beside an electric stove plate and a bar fridge. The only door in the room, apart from the one coming in, leads to a bathroom.
“Really picked the five-star option, huh?” Rocco chuckles.
He tosses our bags onto the sofa and makes his way to the bed.
“It’s better than a coffin, right?” I say, joining him on the musty yellow sheets.
Rocco drops onto the bed next to me, and I rest a hand on his leg.
It’s time to enact my plan. It’s crude and simple, but if it works, I’ll be long gone before he wakes up.
I don’t know where I’m going to run to, yet.
Hell, I don’t even have a dollar to my name.
I’ll have to rely on the kindness of strangers to get me somewhere, but anywhere is better than being hunted by the mafia, right?
“You must be tired,” I say.
“Exhausted.” Rocco drops backward onto the mattress. His long frame barely fits the bed. They really didn’t put much effort into these rooms.
“Why don’t you get some rest? I slept in the car, so I can keep a lookout in the meantime.”
“Are you sure?” He props himself up on his elbows.
“I am.”
I lean forward and give Rocco a kiss on the cheek. I get off the bed and give Rocco some space. He kicks off his shoes, but doesn’t remove his jeans or shirt. He has to be ready to move if things go wrong.
It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep. Exhausted is an understatement. He hasn’t slept in nearly a full day, and on top of that, he was restless while awaiting news of Vincent’s condition.
I give him just over an hour to fall into a deep sleep before I make my escape.
I want to leave him a note, and if I had had pen and paper, I would’ve.
He deserves one final goodbye, right? An explanation.
I wanted him to believe that things were okay because in some fucked up way they were.
I’m not sure if it was because of complacency, or real enjoyment for his company, but I’d have stayed if things weren’t such a mess.
He’s a good man, with a good heart, and he’s shown me a soft side beneath all that strength and violence.
But this life isn’t for me. I have so much to experience, so much to live for, and being on the run can’t be part of those plans.
I give him one last look before I go, and I can feel tears welling in my eyes. With tears stinging my eyes and a few stifled sniffles, I disappear into the darkness.
The crisp, cool air stings my lungs as I step into the flickering light above our door.
I shut it behind me and take my first few steps into the night as a free woman.
That’s a funny way to think about this, right?
Just over a week ago, I didn’t know this world existed.
I was a college student with friends, family, and a whole life ahead of me.
Now, I’m on the run, with nowhere to go. At least it’s on my terms.
I make my way down the rusty staircase and into the parking lot. Here we go. It’s too late to turn back now. I’m really doing this. I’m… scared.
“Shay?” An unfamiliar voice comes from somewhere in the parking lot. I half expect to see Rocco there, chasing me down. I want it to be him.
It isn’t.
It’s a man dressed in a long black trench coat, pointing a gun in my direction.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” another voice says off to my side. He’s crouched between two cars, but as he speaks he stands up to his full height.
“Get away from me,” I shout, but my words are meaningless. Rough hands clamp around my wrists while his friend charges towards me.
As his partner pins my arms, the second guy pulls a canvas bag over my head.
“Get her in the car, and tell Mr. Lombardi we have her,” one of them says.
Strong arms lock around my waist and yank me off my feet.
All I can do is scream Rocco’s name and hope he hears it in his slumber. But when I’m thrown onto the backseat of a car and the door slams shut, I know my cries have fallen on deaf ears.
I’m an idiot for trying to run, and now I’ve delivered myself straight into Emilio’s hands.