“I’ve got to go.” My throat clenches because we had a good thing going. Delilah’s sweet on Mrs. Lawson and her many pictures. That girl loves stories. “I can pay you through the end of the week, but—”
“No, child. If it’s as bad as I think, then you’re going to need it more than me.”
I need so much more than I have saved, especially with my car broken and stuck at the Last Stop. The men probably took a bat to it once they finished with Luca. My heart squeezes. Why did he come after me? Why did he protect me? Except I know the answer to that.
He wants the same thing Leader Allen took—my body.
The fact that I don’t have a car means I need a plan. I can’t hitch a ride with a baby in tow, especially not in freezing weather. A cab is probably the fastest way to get out of here. Easy to track, especially with so few people around, so I won’t be able to rest.
Maybe I’ll catch a bus to Anchorage. And from there, who knows?
“I’ve got to pack,” I say, taking one more fortifying glance at the dark curls I love. “Can you watch her for a few minutes? I’ll be back in under an hour to get her.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Lawson says, her eyes serious. Whatever she’s been through in life, she understands hardship. She understands fear.
My daughter is the only good thing to come of the sixteen years I spent in Harmony Hills. The hard prayer floors, the painful nights spent in divine worship. That’s what Leader Allen called it when he made me kneel, when he forced my legs apart.
For years I sinned in my sleep, dreaming of killing him. Rescue came in the strangest form, maybe the only place it could have—from a man far more dangerous.
From Luca Almanzar.
An enforcer for organized crime, Luca’s done unspeakable things. He did some of them to me—taking me captive, tying me up, keeping me in his hotel bed. Something strange happened to my body when I saw him, a heat that I didn’t know how to name.
That doesn’t matter now. He’s gone. Only Delilah matters.
Chapter Six
I pack the paisley suitcase we have from Goodwill with its fraying threads and broken zipper. There’s more than usual because of the bulky jackets we had to get, so I pack the rest in a white trash bag. The crackers and cereal from the pantry come with us. The stuff in the fridge will have to stay here. Only fifteen minutes until the cab’s supposed to arrive.
There’s one thing left in the apartment that’s mine.
I keep it under the sink in the bathroom, next to a stained bucket that was here when we moved in. It feels like the place farthest away from us, as if I’m storing a ticking time bomb. This book is the only trace of my past. The only proof of what really happened.
It’s hard to pick it up but harder to leave it. That’s why I’ve dragged it around every place we’ve gone—a millstone. A burden. I stand, muscles protesting after a long day and a desperate run. The Bible feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
The lights in the bathroom go out.
In the whole apartment.
A storm. It happens often enough up here, taking the whole power grid down. Except the heavy light from outside the apartment is still on, casting a faint glow through the window.
“Thought you could get away from me?” comes a low masculine voice.
Oh God. Not a storm. It’s Luca. Somehow he got away from those men. Somehow he followed me. I whirl, holding the Bible against my chest. I hate having it this close. It’s more than a bomb. It’s radioactive, toxic to anything nearby. But I can’t let him have it.
He’s only a shadow in the dark, his large frame filling the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I manage, my voice wavery.
He laughs. “Little bird, you know why I’m here.”
“Because you want me.” He took me to save me. That’s what he said. His body betrayed the real reason. The same reason Leader Allen prayed with me.
“That’s only the beginning,” he says, his voice low with promise. “I’ve been chasing you a long time. You’ve got a lot to answer for.”
I take a step back. “Please let me go.”
“Where do you want to go?” he asks, his voice mocking. “Farther north to Denmark? To Iceland? Or maybe all the way to the Arctic.”