Page 143 of Cruel Knots

Diego glances backward.

I make a gagging noise behind my hands.

The man frowns. “Are you going to be sick?”

Widening my eyes, I nod hard.

“Shit,” he mutters, slowing the car down and coming to a sudden halt. “Get out of the car right now.”

I fumble with the car’s door and finally throw it open. Running to a corner of the street that leads into the back alley of a restaurant, I pretend to hurl and gag.

When did I become such a good actress? I wonder, slowly walking away from the scene.

Diego stays in the car, not even bothering to come help me, making it even easier for me to sneak away.

I run down the back alley and walk inside the kitchen unit of a restaurant I’m familiar with. The small area just behind the door is covered in bulging bin bags.

Standing there, I listen to the activities happening inside the kitchen. Several people converse in loud, casual voices. I can also hear the sounds of splashing water and clink of porcelain dishes. This late at night, they’re probably busy cleaning up the place.

I look down at myself. My dress is luxurious enough for them to think I’m a guest. I dig into Marco’s jacket that I’m still wearing. Apart from the two stolen phones, I also come across his thick wallet.

Grabbing his purse, I open it. A thick wad of hundred-dollar bills is tightly stuffed alongside credit cards and business cards. There’s enough money in here for me to escape to a different city right away.

“Who’re you?” an unfamiliar male voice makes me look up.

A tall, lanky boy in a dirty apron stands before me, clutching large bin bags in both his hands.

“I was here earlier this evening,” I lie easily. “My friend needed to go outside to meet her crazy boyfriend. I was forced to stay by my friend’s side while they talked about their issues. Now they’re both gone and I’m left all alone here. I don’t even have a ride to go home. Can you please help me?”

I pretend to look innocent and pathetic.

The young man’s expression softens immediately. Putting down the bin bags, he moves to my side.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?” he offers.

“That’d be great,” I say gratefully. “Thank you so much.”

The guy whips out his cellphone. Without looking up, he says, “Where do you want to go?”

I give him the address of a house on an adjacent street from my home to make sure he can’t locate me easily.

His fingers tap the phone’s screen furiously. Next minute, he grins at me. “Your ride will be here in a couple of minutes. Stepping closer, he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Can I have your number?”

“Sure.” I blurt out. “Give me your phone.”

His smile widens as he hands me the phone.

I type a false name and put in a fake number. At the same time, I check the app he used to book me a cab. The car is almost at the front of the restaurant.

“Would you wait with me?” I say, still holding onto his phone.

“Sure,” he says, moving forward to open the door through which I’d entered. “Let’s go wait at the front of the restaurant.”

“Sure,” I say with a nod.

“What’s your name?” he asks as he leads me through the back alley to the open street.

“Kyla,” I lie.

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