Page 69 of Endless Love

We bolt for the elevators. Ivan has his keycard out, and he flashes it at the car, the doors mercifully opening immediately. As I dart inside, I see a man behind us reflected in the mirror—a large, muscled man with black hair and a firm set to his mouth. He doesn’t look angry or vengeful, just—focused. Like he was hired for this.

Ivan is already on his burner phone. “Yes,” he says as the car shoots up, his voice taut and clipped. “One man. No idea. Okay.We’ll do that. Meeting time is the same. Yes. More money, I understand. It’s no problem.”

He shoves the phone back into his pocket, and I look at him confusedly. “More money?”

Ivan shrugs, as if that’s the least of his concerns. Maybe it is. “If there’s active heat on us, that’s more danger for my contact. Puts heat on everything he’s doing, too. So the price goes up.”

“And you’re just…fine with that?”

Ivan shrugs again. “That’s how this world works. Mine, anyway. I’m not worried about it.” The elevator reaches our floor, and he walks out first, keycard in one hand and the other resting near the pocket of his swim trunks, where I feel sure there’s a knife. Probably the switchblade he gave me when I went into the grocery store alone. “Come on.”

We hurry down the hall to our room. The minute we’re inside, Ivan goes straight to the dresser and yanks out clothes, tossing them on the bed.

“What are you doing?” I frown at him, confused, and he glances back at me.

“We have to go. I got instructions from my contact on what we should do. Change into something and grab the rest of your stuff. Five minutes, Charlotte. We’ve got to get out of here.”

His voice has taken on the tone that he gets when he’s focused. He starts to strip out of his clothes without another word, and for once, there’s no tension to the moment. Just the absolute need for us to get out of here, moving with a quickness that tells me he’s not thinking about anything else. I throw on my jeans and t-shirt, panic rising rapidly in my throat.

Is this how it’s going to be forever?Days and days of running, of being safe for just a few brief hours and then panicking again, are compounding to the point that I’m not sure how much longer I can take it. This is all supposed to end whenI have a new identity, but with every close call, I’m having a harder and harder time believing that day is going to come.

Ivan grabs a backpack that he must have bought when he got the first set of clothes, shoving what’s on the bed into it. “Let’s go,” he says, giving me a sympathetic look. “I’ll flag us down a cab.”

Well, at least we don’t have to steal another car.It’s a weird thing to cling to, but it’s really all I have as Ivan grabs the backpack and leads me to the door, glancing out into the hallway before stepping out. “Follow me,” he says tersely. “Don’t slow down, don’t look around. We’re going straight out the front. Stick to the crowds if you can, it will be harder for him to grab you.”

My heart is in my throat as we head for the stairs. When we walk out onto the casino floor, moving at a quick clip, I think I see a glimpse of the black-haired man. But it could be anyone. I can’t be sure it’s him.

I follow Ivan, my heart pounding in my ears as we walk quickly downstairs, into the marble lobby, the brightness of the trees over the archway swirling in my vision as I try to stay calm. I can feel my breath hitching in my chest, and I press one hand against it, willing myself to remain calm. To not panic.

The warmth of the afternoon outside, hitting me in sharp contrast to the chill of the indoors, clears the fog from my head a little bit. Ivan links his arm through mine, tugging me forward towards one of the cabs waiting at the curb, and he yanks the door open, nudging me inside as he hands the driver cash, giving him the name of somewhere I’m not familiar with.

I don’t ask Ivan where we’re going. I’ll find out soon enough, and I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I feel like if I open my mouth, I might scream.

The cab pulls away from the curb, and I sink back into the seat, my heart still racing, my throat tight with nausea. Ivan'shand finds mine, and he squeezes it gently, a gesture that’s meant to be comforting, but I yank my hand away, my panic suddenly transmuting into anger. I’d let myself stop thinking about his part in all of this, but now it comes back into sharp relief, and I press my lips together tightly. I look over at him, seeing the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes keep darting to the rearview mirror.

"Are we being followed?" I follow his gaze, even though I’m not sure what I would be looking for.

Ivan shakes his head. "I don't think so. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t still working on tracking us.”

“Who?”

“Bradley. Lev. Lev might have hired others to help him. There’s no way to know for sure.”

The city blurs past, the huge signs and towering casinos somehow dimmed. Yesterday, it looked thrilling. Today, it feels looming, like the city is closing in around me. I try to focus on breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly, as the cab speeds out onto the freeway. The panic recedes a little, but I remember the wreck all too well, and every time a car seems to come a little too close to us I jolt again.

“Where are we going?” I finally ask tiredly, leaning back in the seat.

“Another hotel.” Ivan looks out of the window. “A smaller town, outside of Vegas. A place to hide out for a couple of days. My contact has some guys there, they’ll help keep an eye out for us.”

“More money?”

Ivan chuckles. “Yeah. But it doesn’t matter to me.” He glances over, his jaw tightening for a moment, as if he’s considering whether he should say what’s on his mind. “I’d pay any amount to make sure you’re safe, Charlotte,” he says finally.

And then he turns his gaze back out to the window next to him, going silent once more.

30

CHARLOTTE

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