Page 7 of Formula Freedom
I don’t hesitate. I grab my bag and bolt outside onto the street. A taxi sits idling and I open the door. I shove my suitcase in and follow it, looking through the window at the lobby entrance.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
“Just pull away for now. Quickly, please.”
I’m sure it’s the fear and desperation in my voice, but he hits the gas and we zoom off. “I’ll just drive until you tell me where you want to go,” he says kindly. “Take your time.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
I inhale a few deep breaths. Should I get a car and head home? I could make it in a few hours. The thought is unappealing because that’s exactly what Lance will assume I’ll do. He’ll be right behind me.
A thought strikes me, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but I find myself tapping on a contact that I haven’t used in years. The phone rings only twice before a man answers, his voice curious but welcoming. “Lara?”
“Hey, Reid,” I say, hating myself because my voice quavers.
He’s on immediate alert. “Are you okay?”
“No. Actually, I’m not. I need to see you.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t try to pry more info. “I’m staying at the Ritz-Carlton and I’m walking out of the party now. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Thanks.”
I disconnect the call and the taxi driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”
“The Ritz,” I murmur. “And thank you for being so accommodating.”
“No worries, love. We’ll be there in a tick.”
I’m not sure exactly why I’m going to Reid, but I suspect it has everything to do with the fact that I trust him implicitly. While our friendship has dulled a little over the last few years—especially with his career taking off and me dating and then getting engaged to Lance—I know he will always have my back.
CHAPTER 3
Reid
Ispot herbefore she sees me.
Lara’s standing near the lounge in the Ritz-Carlton lobby, half tucked into the shadows between a column and a potted plant like she doesn’t want to be noticed. A small suitcase sits at her side, her hand resting on the handle with a white-knuckled grip. Her eyes sweep the space in slow, anxious movements.
She looks like someone on the run and knowing she was with my brother this evening, I can only conclude that he’s the one chasing her. It makes me queasy as I move her way.
My eyes rake over her and then it’s like a punch to the gut when I see the red mark blooming across her left cheek.
Fresh. Obvious.
My eyes scan her entire body and there… on her arm… the faint outline of finger marks on her pale skin.
My chest tightens with something violent.
“Lara,” I say softly.
She jerks when she hears her name, then exhales when she sees me. A shaky kind of relief washes over her features. She moves toward me quickly, and I reach her in three long strides.
Up close, it’s worse.
The red across her cheek is angry and raised. The skin near her eye is starting to swell.
“What the fuck happened?” I ask, voice low but sharp.
