She wouldn’t let me.
“We can’t do this,” she said, shaking her head rapidly. “We can’t. We just can’t. I can’t.” She hurried to the steps.
“Jules,” I said, but she ran. She took off, sprinting, taking the steps two at a time and nearly falling. She hit the bottom and kept going, and I was too stunned to do much more than half-heartedly jog after her.
She reached the sidewalk and sprinted, arms flailing, legs churning.
She ran away.
Instead of explaining, she ran.
I couldn’t believe it. I stood there, taken aback, and not sure what I should do. I had Oscar back in that room and Jules on the run, and it was like my entire world was crumbling to pieces.
Clearly, whatever had happened left a scar deep in her psyche. So deep she couldn’t think about the event without panicking. She’d likely dealt with the trauma by taking pills for years and years, and I wondered if all the agony in her leg was from her repressing those dark memories.
I knew I had to get her back and make her talk. She needed to tell the story of what happened or else it would keep eating at her. She’d never be free of it.
I turned and saw Mal standing at the balcony, frowning down at me.
“Get Oscar wrapped up,” I said. “Bring him to a safehouse. We’ll deal with him there.”
“Jules?” His head tilted.
“I’ll bring her home.”
I walked to my car and got in.
Chapter 21
Jules
I ran. I kept running until my leg hurt so bad I had to stop.
I didn’t know where I was. The streets were unfamiliar, and the midafternoon sun beat down on my back like a torch. I stumbled forward, sweating and breathing hard, my mind a mixed-up mess of conflicting ideas and memories, and I didn’t know what was true and what was fake anymore.
I found shade under an overpass. I curled up in the dusty dirt among scraggly weeds and listened to the trucks and cars speed past above me. I didn’t care if people thought I was crazy. They were probably right.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember.
There were only bits and pieces. The gunshots. The convoy trying to escape. The SUV flipping and my screams. Vidal trying to save me. The doors opening. More gunshots.
It was a blur. Images and sounds came back but none of it fit together. I didn’t know what I was doing, but my head was too messed up. I was thirsty, exhausted, and drenched in sweat, but I pulled my knees to my chest and didn’t move from my spot.
Carmine had Oscar. That had to be good, right? Either Oscar had already told my father the truth about me and my life was over, or Carmine found him in time to avert the worst disaster.
But maybe I didn’t want to be saved. There was a loud part of me that wanted my father to know what I’d done. He’d kill me, but at least I wouldn’t have to live with this searing regret and horrible pain anymore. Maybe it’d be better that way.
Carmine’s face drifted back. Why did I run from him? He probably thought I was crazy, and he wasn’t wrong. Something was seriously wrong with me, maybe from years of taking those pills, but definitely from years of repressing my memories. I couldn’t access that truth anymore, and knowing that he’d heard that little girl’s voice in that recording say those things drove me wild. I had to get away. I had to run.
I didn’t know how long I sat there. The sun drifted down, casting long red and orange shadows across the street. A car rolled past, turned around, and parked down below. Carmine got out from behind the wheel. His Mercedes idled as he walked toward me.
I watched him come. I knew this would happen. Carmine would find me wherever I ran. There was no escape from him.
Maybe that was a good thing too.
Maybe it was time to stop running.
He sat down next to me in the dirt. He didn’t say anything. It smelled like car exhaust and wet dirt, and he looked so out of place in his nice slacks and tucked-in shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“I’m sorry I ran,” I said quietly after some time passed. Everything was still unsettled for me. I was still unstable.
How could he want to be with someone like me? I was damaged and broken. I wasn’t worth this man’s time.
“It’s okay. I’m just happy I found you.” He looked at me then and I expected to see disgust.
Instead, there was only worry.
“I haven’t told anyone what happened that day. Not even Oscar knows the full story.” I pulled my knees tighter against my chest.
“Do you think it would help if you talked about it?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I even can.”