Page 77 of Caged Bird

There was nothing left to do but leave. In the end, without Margaret or Otis, we realized we didn’t need the wagon. Zane had barely anything here, besides the clothes he’d had on his back when he’d arrived. He worked unsuccessfully at getting the safe open while I packed a change of clothes and as much water and food as I thought we could carry.

Twelve miles Margaret had thought it was to the nearest neighbors. It would be hours of walking, and I knew my body wasn’t conditioned for that sort of trek after years and years of neglect and punishment.

But I also knew there was a quiet determination bubbling away inside me, and that getting my son back meant getting to people who could help me do that.

I needed my family.

The low rumble of a car outside had both of us freezing.

Zane went to look and swore low under his breath. “Expensive. Dark tint. Someone with money, not one of Eddie’s regular crew.”

“Detectives?” I wiped my hands, still smeared with Margaret’s blood, on the sides of my dress nervously.

Zane rushed back. “Them or Guerra heard about my brother fucking his wife last night and has come for payback. Either way, we don’t need to be here to find out.” He grabbed my hand and the two bags of supplies we’d packed.

We hustled out the back door, both of us running for the safety of the tree line.

My legs screamed in pain at the movement. I had so many old injuries caused by a man who’d claimed he loved me so much he could never let me go. And yet he’d upped and left without a second thought when he was offered the chance to hurt me more.

He was right. I’d never be free. Even when he’d replaced my body with another woman, he still hadn’t let me go. He had the one thing that would always tie me to him, no matter what I did.

Car doors slammed behind us, and despite the pain in my legs and back, I pushed through, finding a burst of speed and sprinting for the trees. Zane, with my bag clutched in his arms, his on his back, stayed right next to me the entire way, matching my speed, even though I knew that with his thick, strong legs, he could have outpaced me in a heartbeat.

“Leave me,” I gasped to Zane.

“No.”

He could have given me up to the cops, so he had a better chance of getting away. I knew that’s exactly what Eddie would have done. It’s what Zaneshoulddo now. He’d be faster without me dragging him down.

But it was clear he wasn’t going to, no matter how much I tried to insist he did.

He was reminding me, again, that I was no longer alone.

I didn’t think anything had ever felt as good as that knowledge. After so long by myself, I never wanted to be alone again.

We reached the trees together, ducking into the shadowy depths of the woods. I knew we couldn’t stop, but I couldn’t run anymore either. I stood behind a tree, sucking in great gulps of air, trying to ignore the pain in my body, because there would be so much more to come during the long walk ahead.

I’d go through it every night if it was what I had to do to get Otis back.

Zane looked me over, his concerned gaze sweeping across my face, checking every detail, the pain there causing him plenty of his own. “Fawn…”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

I stepped past him, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me down to the ground behind the tree again. He brought one finger to his lips, a warning for me to stay quiet, and then he pointed behind me at the house.

Voices.

Whoever had been in that car hadn’t gone to the front door, or if they had, after finding it unattended, they’d abandoned it to check out the back of the house.

It wouldn’t take them long to find the fresh grave. Or Margaret’s blood on the old, worn carpet upstairs, and then the place would be swarming with cops.

“As soon as they go inside, we have to run again.” Zane’s chest rose and fell steadily, no sign of the sprint we’d just made, unlike my body that still craved air like it had been starved of it.

I wasn’t ready to run again, but we had no choice.

I nodded. I was mentally ready, even if my body couldn’t be. My head would get me there.

Zane barely breathed, his eyes closing for a moment while he listened for the telltale sound of the back screen door closing or some other sign the cops or Guerra had gone inside and we could make our escape.

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