Page 79 of Twisted Proposal

A car passed on the street, its headlights illuminating the alley, reminding me I needed to move. Artem may not have realized I was gone yet, but he soon would. When that happened, I needed to be away far enough that he couldn't find me.

Did such a place even exist?

I didn't know, but maybe I could get somewhere far enough that I wasn't worth retrieving. He was a businessman, surely there was a cost versus reward matrix he would consider. Maybe I was worth driving across town for, but not for committing the manpower needed to hunt me across state lines?

The second I thought about it I knew it wasn't true. Artem had seemingly unlimited resources and this would be a point of pride. Men like him didn't gain power, or keep it, without having an intense fixation on reputation and holding onto what they thought belonged to them.

Still, I couldn't stay.

It was a Friday night, close to the college campus, so despite the late hour there were plenty of people on the street. I kept my head down, my bag over my shoulder so I could tuck my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie, and my shoulders hunched.

Whatever I could do to look smaller and inconspicuous.

I didn't want to alert Ivan by grabbing a cab too close to the apartment, so I started walking.

In case I was being followed, I didn't take a direct path. I ducked into a few bars and left out the back, winding my way through back streets and piss-soaked alleys.

There were a few drunk frat bros and more than one woman in a tiny dress who had to be freezing.

Every single one of them looked right past me.

Perfect.

Drunk college kids were not the same as Artem's trained men, but them not noticing me, or even seeing me, meant I could disappear in a crowd.

Twenty minutes later, I finally got in a cab.

I arrived at the train station with only minutes to spare. The train I intended to take was pulling into the station and I got to the counter just in time to buy my ticket.

The girl sitting behind the counter commented about me cutting it close, but her eyes never even left her computer screen as she hit the digits, printed the ticket, and took my cash.

That was probably one of the few good things my father had taught me. Always carry cash. Cash wasn't traceable.

Did I think not leaving a paper trail meant Artem wouldn't find me?

No.

But hopefully, it would at least slow him down.

I lined up in front of my car, waiting for the doors to open. There were a few exhausted-looking men in suits, a woman with her kid, and a group of teenagers who were talking about the college I was leaving.

My skin prickled with awareness.

Every shadow seemed to hide one of Artem's men.

Every glance in my direction felt like exposure.

The students talked about the upcoming semester and how amazing it would be, and a pang of regret hit me.

Artem gave me the tools I needed to get my degree, and I was just leaving.

How was I going to pay for college somewhere else? How was I going to enroll in classes without him finding out where I was?

The anxiety in my stomach loosened and started turning into regret as my knuckles gripped my bag harder. I needed to feel determination, not regret.

I could turn around.

That was an option.