Page 38 of Vendetta Vows

"To get Aurora." I turn back, meeting her gaze across the crowded room. "Before it's too late."

11

AURORA

My hands shakeas I stuff clothes into my backpack. The sirens screaming outside shred what little composure I have left.

"It's not for me," I whisper to myself, zipping my toiletries bag shut. "They don't know where I am."

But what if they do? What if Kristofer finally found me?

Each wail of the sirens drags memories to the surface. Red-blue lights flashing on the wall. Blood soaking into carpet fibers.

Look what you made me do.

"Focus, Aurora. Just focus."

The name feels strange on my tongue right now, like wearing someone else's clothes. Because in moments like these, I'm always Jamie Fields again, terrified and on the verge of running.

Where can I even go? Hannah is still at the studio. My savings won't get me far. Maybe I could head north? Canada? Or south to Mexico?

I grab my emergency cash stash from under the mattress and shove it into an inner pocket. Seven years of carefully constructed anonymity. Gone in an instant because I dared to step into the light for one night. Because I let myself feel something for Ruslan.

The sirens fade, but my heart doesn't slow.

"Breathe," I command myself, forcing air into my lungs. "Just breathe."

Outside, a car door slams.

My hands freeze.

"You're being paranoid," I mutter. "It's probably just a neighbor."

But then I hear it.

Heavy footsteps climbing the stairs outside our apartment. Deliberate. Purposeful. Coming closer with each ponderousthud.

Those aren't Hannah's light steps.

And they stop right outside our door.

I'm convinced the entire universe is holding its breath, waiting to see if I'll make it out alive.

My heart pounds against my ribs like it's trying to escape without me. I strain my ears, desperate for the familiar jingle of Hannah's keys or her habit of humming off-key when she thinks no one's listening.

Nothing.

"Hannah?" I whisper, knowing it's futile.

The doorknob jiggles.

Thank god I locked it.

I creep toward the window, staying low, and keeping my movements quiet.

Outside, parked against the curb, sits a nondescript sedan. Dark, possibly black or navy. No distinguishing features.

A car I'veneverseen on this block before.

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