Did Caesar kill Beck? No…that’s not possible. Beck was his friend. Beck was probably on his side. He wouldn’t have killed Beck.
I hear their soft laughter as they move out of sight, but I can’t move from where I’m sitting. All I can do is think about Brett’s hand on my thigh and remember how it had immediately brought back thoughts of being in the van. It had felt familiar, but I dismissed it as my own paranoia.
But it wasn’t. It was familiar because his hand had been on me before—holding me down, spreading my legs. The scar on his face is from where I hit him. He was the one on top of me—he was the one inside of me—when I fought my way free.
I turn my head quickly and throw up on the ground.
My stomach continues to retch for a full minute before I force myself to my knees and then to my feet. I can’t stay here. I have to get back to Falk—back to safety. I stumble, wrap my arm around my middle, and look toward the apartment. I don’t see any sign of Brett or Caesar.
I have to get there—get there and lock the door. I have to get one of Falk’s guns and make sure it’s loaded. If they come for me, I’m going to have to kill them.
I run across the common area and up the stairs, throwing the door open and then slamming it again behind me. I push my body up against the door, turning the deadbolt with a loud click, and then slide down to the floor, still holding my stomach and trying not to throw up again.
Falk rushes out of the bathroom at the sound.
“Hannah? Hannah, what’s wrong? What happened?” He crouches beside me, reaching out to lay his hand on my shoulder.
“I…I heard them…them talking…about…about….” I can’t catch my breath.
“Slow down,” Falk says, gripping my shoulder and turning me toward him. “What were they saying?”
“They know who I am, Falk!” I cry. “They were talking about me. They’re with Hudson!”
He grabs my face in both of his hands and peers down at me.
“Who?” he demands. “Who knows?”
“Caesar and Brett.”
“Tell me exactly what you heard.”
“They were talking about getting rid of you and…and using me to barter with. Caesar said there was another group of people he already knows about.”
“He never was shot at,” Falk mumbles. “I thought there was something fishy about that story. What makes you say they’re with Hudson?”
“They said they wanted revenge,” I tell him. “Caesar said they were supposed to get me at the airport.”
“They’re the ones,” Falk said quietly. “They’re the ones in the reports I read.” He slams his fist against the floor. “Motherfuckers!”
“Falk, what are we going to
do? They’re planning to kill you!”
I watch his eyes as they dance back and forth between mine. He glances over his shoulder, down to the common area and then back at me.
“Pack,” he says.
“What?”
“Pack. Pack now. We’re leaving.”
Falk marches into the bedroom and starts opening footlockers. I follow, and he hands me a huge backpack from the closet.
“Fit everything you need in here,” he says.
I nod dumbly and grab a pile of my clothes out of the dresser drawer.
“Where are we going to go?”