Page 114 of Fractured Fear

My pulse is flying and air rapidly saws in and out of my lungs. My legs shake as I flee.

“Fucking bitch! You’re lucky he said not to hurt you!” His voice is gravelly like he smokes a pack a day.

I slide over the turnstyle. I know it’s technically stealing, but steal or get kidnapped. I won’t lose sleep over stealing a few dollars from the New York government. They’ll live. I may not.

Righting myself, I attempt another sprint. I’m jerked back again when my duffle bag snags on the turnstyle.

Fuck.

Glancing up I see the man, his face twisted in anger. With vigor, I tug on my bag. He’s not close to me yet, but he will be in seconds.

Tug. Tug. Still no give.

“Line two approaching the platform. Stand back.”

That’s my train.

I plant my feet and give the synthetic fabric a firm yank. There’s a tearing sound and I’m finally free.

Switching my weight, I take off just as my mysterious attacker makes it over the metal barrier.

I’m five feet from the doors and they begin to slowly slide closed. Digging deep into my reserves, I pump my arms harder and push my stride faster.

“Don’t you fucking dare, cunt!”

With less than two feet of space between the doors, I jump and land just inside the train car. There’s a rush of air and I know the doors have closed. Spinning, I see him standing there and his rage has reached new heights. He slams his fist over and over on the safety glass.

Thankfully, the New York subway waits for no one and the train moves. He somewhat regains his composure and whips out his phone. Before I am able to read his lips, he’s out of sight.

I plop down on the nearest seat and count my lucky stars. That was too close. Anthony is too close.

My heart still hasn’t returned to a normal rate and I highly doubt it ever will.

Fucking hell.

Is this my life now?

CHAPTER 45

SPENCER

Almost an hour later, I’m off the train and making my way to the address Rio texted me yesterday.

They still haven’t texted me back.

Maybe this is a sign. A sign that they don’t want me anymore. Did yesterday make them realize I’m not worth all the trouble?

The thought stings, but this would be for the best. A clean break. Although avoiding me would be a shitty way of them telling me they’re done, I’m not sure I can blame them.

How do you tell someone whose place of business just got a shot up that you’re not interested in them anymore?

Apparently, the answer is to say nothing at all.

I make my way through their neighborhood. Kids play in the street, a pair of elderly women gossip in lawn chairs, and a man moves his trashcan to the curb, a picturesque New York residential area. It’s peaceful. Laughter rings down the street.

It’s the complete opposite of the turmoil going on inside me. My muscles are stiff, ready for the next bad thing to happen. My focus darts about, checking for threats.

I force myself to take calming breaths and to slow my pace. Everyone out here is enjoying their afternoon. I don’t want toscare the children whose only goal is to have fun. They deserve their carefree play time.

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