Page 58 of Organized Chaos
And ten miles on the road didn’t equate to the same in nautical time.
If I had to guess, there was a ferry nearby for the local residents. Their lives were water-based, and that long, twisted road didn’t serve the purpose of an efficient means of commuting day-to-day, especially if they worked in the city center.
Tapping on the off-line map on my phone, I noted that the city center did, in fact, connect to water.
This cottage was also near water.
When Brandon and I walked to the beach to scatter his dad’s ashes, there were boats and fishermen in the distance. I could flag one of them down and offer them money in exchange for a ride to the ferry. My Google Translate app worked offline in case they only spoke Italian.
Without hesitation, I threw my belongings into my carry-on, packing all other essentials into my oversized bag. Fifteen minutes had already elapsed since Brandon’s departure, and I still needed to erase all traces of my existence.
Brandon didn’t know my identity, and I couldn’t risk exposing it. He already knew of my little crush. So, it’d be too much of a coincidence all of this happened under the guise of a misunderstanding. He’d hate me if he found out the truth and would accuse me of premeditating everything, just like his stepmother.
I searched every crevice of the house to ensure none of my personal belongings were left behind, scrambling like a madwoman. My stomach lurched upon realizing that I had almost left behind my most precious possession.
Dashing through the open living room, I got down on my hands and knees to retrieve my book from under the bed. While on all fours, something else caught my eye.
I was at eye level with Brandon’s duffel bag. A small square box stood stoutly between the unzipped opening. My fingers hovered over it before I realized it was a box of condoms.
I gritted my teeth, wanting to tear my hair out.
He was such an asshole!
Suppressing the urge to scream, I checked for damages before tucking the book inside my purse.
Brandon had pointed out a fancy pager used to call their groundskeeper. I paged him, hoping he’d polish this place clean.
It was drastic, but so was Brandon at the moment. Coping with loss had altered his perception. He’d rather remain in this cottage to evade reality, something I simply couldn’t afford.
After his grief had lapsed, Brandon would forget all about this weekend, and just like he had before, he’d forget me all over again.
***
IDOUBTED MY JOURNEYto Nice would be as smooth as the one to the town center. A fisherman saw me waving frantically from the beach and was nice enough to give me a ride in his boat to the nearest dock. The twenty-minute ferry ride into town was fairly quick. Upon arrival, another nice gentleman pointed out the train station.
Though it was implausible to catch a direct train to Nice from this remote village, my phone had signal at long last.
Milo had a tracking app installed on my phone. Luckily, it didn’t work overseas. As far as he was concerned, I was with Raven. And Raven didn’t expect me to check in with her until tomorrow.
So, I only had one person to call.
I pressed on Gabby’s name as I trudged my carry-on along. “Hey.”
“Mia!” she squealed. “Tell me every—”
“Gabby, I need your help,” I cut her off, hoping she could hear the panic in my voice.
I gave Gabby a recap of my weekend, leaving out all the sordid details. Instead, I stressed that Brandon and I couldn’t be linked together for a few morally reprehensible reasons.
I was especially paranoid of the people who bore witness to us—the bartender, a man who hit on me, and Tashasomething.
“Mia,” Gabby cooed. “I doubt some drunk creep at a bar will remember you. As for the bartender, there were so many people at the hotel that night. How could he possibly remember one random girl?”
“But he checked my ID.”
“Doesn’t matter. All the information on it is fake. It’s not linked to you.”
“That’s true,” I admitted.
