Page 5 of Cruel Master

“They’re going to kill me, E,” he hissed. “I know they are. I’ve done everything you said. I copied all of the files, all of the information and erased it from their servers. I’ve sent flash drives of it all out to different media stations, but what if it’s not enough? They will want to destroy this information—or worse, take it and use it for themselves. They’ll create my organs and then jack up the prices until no one but the rich can afford it. This could save millions of lives and they’re going to use this for their own profit.”

By the end of his monologue, his voice had turned slightly shrill. More sweat beaded on his brow. I wrinkled my nose as the distinct smell of male body odor reached my nostrils, and I automatically leaned away as I drew my hand from his.

Discreetly, I reached into my purse and removed several tissues to hand to him. He took them and began blotting the sweat on his forehead.

“We don’t need to worry about the research,” I told him. “Right now, all we need to worry about is how to get you out of here and in a safe place before whoever is trailing you finds a way to get you alone.”

“Do you have a safe house set up?” he asked almost pleadingly.

My smile turned pained. If I’d had time, I might have been able to find something suitable. As a one-woman show, however, everything from being his contact and advisor to his personal protection unit fell on me. A safe house for him now would require assistance. I no longer had those kinds of connections. Had things not gone terribly awry five years ago, I might have been able to give him a better answer. I’d once thought that being the wife of a mob boss was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but now as time had passed and I’d been on the run, I knew that having contacts in the criminal underworld was what kept people alive. That as well as fear and power.

Instead of answering him, I lifted my purse over my shoulder and rose from my seat. “Come on,” I said as the same dark blue sedan from before crossed the street once again, this time on the other side of the traffic. “We’re going out the back.”

Ron’s chair scraped back against the café floor as he hurried to follow me. I walked slowly though, and soon he had to slow the quickness of his gait to match mine, though it was clear he didn’t want to. I forced myself—and in turn,him—to walk at a leisurely pace. If we were going to get him out of here safely, then we had to be smart about it. We couldn’t seem afraid or even aware of the danger waiting for either of us.

I lifted my head and turned past the bathrooms and headed for the cafés small kitchen. I’d been here many times—it was why I’d felt so comfortable to meet him in this location. I never went anywhere without several escape routes and this café was one of the many different meeting locations I had on rotation in an effort to stay vigilant of eyes that could always be watching. A few of the younger employees paused and frowned as we passed, but it wasn’t my presence that made them question us back here. It was Ron’s. He was sweating like crazy and it seemed that his body odor only grew more and more intense with each second.

People believed in confidence, no matter what it sold them. So confident, I became. I’d run into an ex-thief a year or two ago that had taught me that motto. She’d seen me in the bar I was working undercover at and knew immediately that I was running from something. Somehow, the two of us had managed to find ourselves alone at closing and she’d offered her own certain brand of wisdom. Wisdom that I hadn’t realized how desperately I’d needed. I missed her right now, but her words still lingered in the back of my mind—a helpful voice to my overcrowded mind.

Look like you belong,I reminded myself.And they’ll believe it.

Even with Ron’s sweating and shaking and his darting gaze, we made it all the way through the kitchen to the back door without anyone stopping us. I popped it open and glanced out into the alley. One side was completely open, while the other was blocked off by a set of dumpsters and a large brick wall. My heels clicked against the pavement as I led him outside. I paused, dug my hand into my purse, and pulled out a rolled-up pair of ballet slippers.

Sliding out of my heels, I kicked them behind the nearby dumpster and put on the more practical shoes. A pity about the heels, but they’d just been for show anyway. Sliding back into my purse, I pulled out a burner phone, a wad of cash that I always kept on hand for emergencies, a non-traceable credit card, as well as a set of keys.

I was afraid this would happen. Thankfully, though, I’d already planned for it—or rather, I was still in the process of arranging things. This was my option B.

Five years of learning this life.

Sink or swim.

Life or death.

Both good were motivators and made me quickly realize I was truly a Price heir, after all. Even if I never wanted to be a criminal, I had to admit, I was damn good at using the same skillset as the people various mafia families employed. The most important thing the trial and error taught me was to always be prepared for any contingency.

“Here,” I said, shoving the card, cash, phone, and keys into Ron’s hands.

He gaped at the money and phone and then at me as we came to a stop at the mouth of the alley. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

I watched the sedan cross the street, and before the driver could spot us, I grabbed Ron and ducked behind a low-hanging sign on the side of the building. “Listen to me very carefully,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on the sedan. There had to be more, possibly an assassin already after him, but I didn’t want to alert him and send Ron into a spiral of panic. He was the type that would definitely make things worse when he panicked. We’d only been working together for a little under a month, and while I wish he would’ve contacted me sooner … hindsight was twenty-twenty and we were past that. I shifted my gaze back to his face.

“I want you to take that money and card and grab a taxi out of the city. Use the phone I gave you. Here—give me yours—I don’t want you using it for the foreseeable future.” When all he did was just blink at me, I huffed and began digging through his pockets until I found the phone I was searching for. I shoved it into my purse. “Now, as I was saying…” Ron still hadn’t moved or said anything. Instead, his eyes were centered on something over my shoulder. I glanced back but saw nothing. I knew he wasn’t used to this kind of life, but still, if he didn’t catch up, then he would get himself killed. There was only so much I could do for him if he didn’t listen.

With another irritated huff, I snapped my fingers in front of his face and brought his attention back. “Focus,” I said. “Take a taxi. Keep that phone but do not use it. I’ll contact you when I can and you’ll have to stay in a safe place for now—”

“Safe place?” he repeated, his face growing flushed once more. “Where is that? Do you have a—”

“No,” I interrupted him. “I don’t have a specific place. You’ll need to find a motel or somewhere else to hole up in and hide. Grab some food with the money I gave you and stay put until I can come for you. There’s enough money there in cash and on the card to last you for several weeks as long as you don’t stay somewhere too expensive. Motels—Ron. Stay where they have as little security as you can manage. Don’t go out, but if you must, keep your head down, wear a hat, and be wary of CCTVs.”

In this age of technology, one could never be too careful. Even if I’d changed a lot in the last five years, I, too, had to be safe. Which was why I’d contracted a few friends I’d made from the dark web to erase any footage I had out there regularly. “Somewhere rural. Out of the city and out of sight.”

Ron’s face paled, and he swallowed as if fighting back the urge to puke. I had to move this along. My eyes darted back to the street. That fucking sedan had turned back around. This time, it was slowing at a nearby light. The backdoor opened. “It won’t be forever,” I said quickly. “The phone I gave you is secure. Call me if there’s an emergency, otherwise, I want you to wait for me to call.”

“W-what are you going to do?”

Hope like hell that one of my contacts would come through in time for me to get him. I stepped out from behind the sign and waved my hand for a taxi. A yellow cabby caught my eye and pulled up to the curb. I stepped back to where Ron stood. Two men were coming down the street. At first glance, they looked like anyone else on the sidewalk—sunglasses and jeans to complement their black t-shirts. The only difference is how they were moving—like eels cutting through the water, dead set on their target.

“Switch cabs often,” I pushed the words out in a rush as I latched onto his arm and practically dragged him towards the taxi. “Use the cash,” I snapped.

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