Page 41 of Cruel Love

They feel less important every day. I can’t even remember why I thought they were in the first place.

I grab a plain black shirt. A gray one. Another black one. Colors to get lost in.

I reach for the large suitcase I usually travel with and pause, thinking twice about it. I grab the carry-on instead. It’s much easier to move with the smaller one.

That’s my girl, I hear in the back of my head.

My fiancé’s voice.

I smile at the thought before getting back to work.

I move faster, grabbing only what I know I’ll need and abandoning the rest. A few pairs of clean undies. A comfortable sports bra. My toothbrush.

A hat. Fox said to wear a hat. I return to the closet to fetch a beanie from the drawer of winter hats and gloves but again, I pause. Beanies are great for keeping warm, but they don’t obscure — not as much as a movie star like Roxie Roberts needs to be obscured.

I turn around to look at the back of the door, finding Fox’s baseball cap hanging from a hook. I slide it off slowly. It’s old and worn, fabric coming loose in a few spots, but it will still do its job.

I bring it to my nose. His scent still clings to the fibers. My eyes moisten, ready to spill over as soon as I start to fall apart, but I hold it all back. That’s not what he’d do right now.

He’d keep his shit together and move his ass.

I close the closet behind me. I’ve taken all I need from it now. I stuff the little bag full of money and IDs inside the suitcase. I shove the phone in my jeans pocket. I tie my hair back in a loose ponytail and pull it through the back of the baseball cap as I fit it onto my much smaller head.

It’s time to go.

One last look. One last walk through the hallway of the home we shared. The life we tried to start but even Fox knew it wouldn’t last. Not forever.

One last goodbye.

I reach the front door and stop. Two police cruisers sit outside. Three officers linger at the gates, another one standing in front of the terminal, ready to hit the call button. They must be here to question me after that massacre at the theater last night. My heart aches for Lena. You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in this.

I’m so sorry...

The terminal next to my head chimes. I bite down, thinking carefully. Would Fox stick around and answer their questions? Would Fox risk our enemies catching wind of where I am?

Not a chance.

I spin around and grab a hooded sweater from the closet. I throw it on, along with a pair of dark sunglasses, and march toward the back door. I should be able to pass through the yard, hop over the fence, and escape down the block without getting caught.

Escaping my own house. Oh, how life can change so fast...

I rush outside and cross the lawn. There’s no way I’m going to be able to hike myself over the fence, so I grab a lawn chair as I pass by the patio set beside the grill, trying desperately not to picture those nights in with Fox. Grilling food outside and having dinner by candlelight and forgetting the rest of the world exists for just a few hours...

I toss my bag over the fence and climb up onto the chair, quickly lifting myself up to scale the gate. I pause to scan for witnesses before dropping onto the sidewalk below and bolting in the opposite direction.

Take the subway downtown.

I walk with my head down for blocks, pretending to text so the act doesn’t seem too suspicious. I round the corner to descend the stairs into the subway and check over my shoulder to confirm that I’m not being followed. The police didn’t see me run off. That’s good.

But we’re not out of the woods yet. I still need to find the impound lot. I’m not even sure where that is, to be honest, but I’ll rely on my new mantra. Would Fox ask for directions? Or would Fox look at a map?

I glance up from my seat on the train, eying the route map on the wall. Okay, if I get off at the next stop and take a left...

I still won’t know exactly where I’m going but I’ll be okay. I can do this.

I lean back and close my eyes, taking one more deep breath to calm my rattling nerves. I’ll be okay. Fox has faith in me. So should I.

I take a left out of the subway station and ease into the passing crowd as I make my way toward Olympic Boulevard. I remember what Fox told me about how to check for tails. Only use reflective surfaces to look behind you. Never turn around or else they’ll know you know. Cross the street at random. Never alter your pace until you know you’ve lost them. Take advantage of alleyways — but only if you’re sure there’s no dead end.

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