Denial (Careless Whispers #1)(18)

Worried I’ll be seen, I squat down between the lines of cars, trying to decide what to do. Stay? Run? Listen, when I can’t understand anything being said? And why isn’t Kayden worried about me right now? He has to know I’m not in the stairwell because I’d already have exited. Another image flickers in my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing answers to come to me, and am transported back to the night Kayden found me.

I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets, nervously walking the deserted sidewalk, hoping I’m going to find help ahead and fighting the urge to look over my shoulder. Afraid to look and alert anyone following me—I know that they are there—but just as afraid not to look. So I do it, and I discover two men trailing me by half a block at most. It could be innocent, but it doesn’t feel innocent at all, and I turn back around, hurrying my pace without breaking into an outright run. Please don’t let them be after me. Please don’t let them be after me. I double-step and look over my shoulder again, and they are closer. Much closer now, and my heart wrenches with the certainty that I am in trouble and have no option but to run.

“Ella. Ella.”

I open my eyes, shocked to find Kayden squatting in front of me, those blue eyes meeting mine, and I flicker back to an image of me lying in that alleyway, and him staring down at me. I woke up. I saw him there. “I told you to wait inside, damn it,” he scolds.

“Gallo was in the stairwell. Who was that man you were talking to?”

“He’s a friend.”

“A friend?” I ask, terrified that I’m about to discover he and that man were the two men following me. “What kind of friend?”

That “friend” appears to the side of us, speaking rapid, urgent Italian, then disappearing again. “Fuck,” Kayden murmurs, before announcing to me, “Gallo is headed back in this direction. Hide behind a car.” He stands and walks around the wall while I crawl to the back of the bumper I hid behind before, listening as three sets of voices sound this time.

Lowering my head to my hands, I try to see those men following me, but my mind proves to be a brutal bitch that gives me nothing when I truly want and need information. Feeling sick, I press my hand to my stomach. Kayden was not following me. He wasn’t. Every instinct I own says I can trust him. He saved me. Didn’t he? Unless . . . Could someone have spotted him, leaving him forced to call for help? Cotton forms in my throat, and I go back to the cold, hard conclusion I faced in that bathroom and forgot too soon. I don’t know what happened to me or who I am, and I cannot trust anyone until I do. I have to leave, right now, and alone.

I push off my knees and go to a squat, hesitating a split second before I start moving down the line of cars, hoping I’m headed toward the exit. Ten cars later, I find a short stairwell, and I take off down it. A few seconds later, I seem to be at the side of the hospital overlooking another parking lot. It’s pitch dark, and thunder is rumbling overhead, with the scent of rain lacing the air. I run left, away from the main entrance of the building from what I can tell, a gust of wind lifting my hair and blasting me with bitterly cold air, but I do not allow it to stop me. Forever it seems I push forward, until I’m at the street separating the hospital from a neighborhood. I turn and look behind me, relieved that no one follows.

Adrenaline and hope mix together, energizing me. I cross the road, running even faster now, and I am rewarded with the sight of a giant church, certain they will shelter and protect me. But it’s not as close as I thought, and I find myself winding through the streets, trying to find the fastest way out of the cold. The first drop of rain hits me as I cut down the cobblestone road, my mind flickering back to another cobblestone road, and the night of the attack.

Run. Keep running. Faster. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. I can’t be caught. They can’t take me back to him. They can’t. I won’t let them.

I’m jolted out of the past when a downpour of icy rain rushes over me, and the church appears farther away than seconds before. My entire body hurts and I think I’m crying. I know I’m scared. I don’t want to be scared. I want to be brave. I have to be brave and I’m not going to quit.

The rain keeps falling, though, brutal, cold, punishing droplets pelting me, while thunder rumbles above with the fierceness of a beast gone as mad as I feel. I’m numb when I finally reach the edge of the massive church parking lot. I’m discouraged to find no cars, no signs that anyone is present, but I press onward, hoping for any form of shelter. I’m within reachable distance of the massive steps leading to the door when a roar sounds in the distance. My heart skips a beat and I drag my aching body forward. Don’t stop running. Don’t stop! The roar gets closer. Louder. Don’t stop! I close in on the steps and spot another set leading downward that puts me closer to a door. I cut right toward them, but the roar of the engine is on top of me, and I’m so bitterly cold I can barely feel my toes. Still, though, I push myself, and push some more. Only a few more feet. A few more feet!

Suddenly, a motorcycle is in front of me, skidding to a stop and blocking my path. Stunned, I am forced to stop dead in my tracks, and even with a helmet on, I can feel Kayden’s energy, his dominance, and I do not wait for his dismount. I dart to my right, determined to reach a door, where I can try to get help. The bike goes silent, and I know it’s a matter of seconds before Kayden catches up to me, but I am so close to those downward steps. So close, but I don’t make it. Kayden’s strong hand grasps my arm, while I try to jerk in the other direction. “Ella! Stop! It’s me!”