Page 29 of Pen Pal

“Just in shock,” she muttered, gripping my arm tightly. “What the fuck did you do to make them come after me, huh?”

“Beat your ex to a pulp,” I shrugged. “Sacha ran his fucking mouth.”

Her head whirled, regarding me with anger before her eyes flashed with something that softened her expression.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

I was taken aback by that, but I couldn’t let anything distract me. I had to get us out safely; now seemed the best time.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled, running for the side door. Luca stumbled after me, and Vitali was still shooting nearby.

I dragged her outside, seeing a few Sokolov stragglers left behind as they ran down the street, shouting for help. I laughed at them as Luca brandished his gun and shot them down one by one.

Sofia cupped her ears as I dragged her into the car I stole, shooting daggers at Vitali as he ran out of the safe house, making a beeline for us. I got in the backseat with my sister as Luca got behind the wheel, and Vitali took the passenger side.

I tossed the keys to Luca as he revved the car and tore out of the driveway, roaring down the highway and taking us away from danger.

“You went soft back there,” Luca exclaimed in astonishment. “You’re usually the one causing the most carnage back there.”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear this shit!” Sofia shouted. I sighed, put my arm around her, and let her lean on me as she sobbed. She clutched at my hoodie, pulling me to her as she buried her face in my hood, crying her eyes out.

“Did they touch you?” I snarled.

“They fucking tried,” she cried. “I didn’t fucking let them.”

I looked at her arms and noticed that they were bruised and bloody. I fumed, wishing I had made those men suffer slow, horrible deaths like they deserved. But I had to focus on what mattered; my sister was safe now, and I had to return her to her husband.

Then I’d go check on my little lawyer.

10

Amara

Afew mornings later, I scoured everywhere online until I found a small two-bedroom house for rent. I sent the owner my information, and they ran a credit and background check on me before allowing me to visit. It was fully furnished, and I signed the lease that day.

The hotel was just a twenty-minute walk away, so I went back there, checked out, and slung my bag over my shoulder as I walked back to my new place. Still reeling from when my ex sent a brick through the shelter’s window, I peered over my shoulder once in a while to make sure he wasn’t following me.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I saw the same man behind me more than once.

He was tall, clearly over six feet, and wore black jeans and a black hoodie. His face was obscured in the shadows, so I couldn’t tell who he was.I picked up the pace, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

I deliberately walked in the wrong direction until I lost him, and only then did I get back on the path to my new home. I quickly entered and shut the door behind me.

I went upstairs, placed my clothes in the closet, put toiletries in the bathroom, and tried to make myself home.

My phone rang, and I sighed as I picked it up. “Yes?”

“Hey, Amara, can you come in today?” Marta asked. “There’s an issue with your client.”

“Yeah, I know, he broke out,” I sighed. “I saw it in the news.”

“There’s something else. You really should come in and see this,” she insisted.

I frowned but knew I had to keep this job to keep my new place. So I agreed, hung up the phone, and dressed in something more work-appropriate.

I left out the back door in case whoever followed me was still around. I prayed it wasn’t my soon-to-be ex-husband and began the short walk to my workplace.

I walked in without a word, going straight to my desk. A pile of paperwork awaited me, but letters were also on the stack. I sifted through the junk mail, but one envelope caught my attention with the return address.

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