FUGITIVE

CHAPTER 13

After getting the answers I want, I grab their phones and weapons, along with the keys to their van. I drive to the cafe, where I left my car and take their things with me. I discard the phone I used for directions and I drive to the nearest motel.

They told me that they have a contact here, in Valencia, who does not know them by name or face. All that they need is the secret code, which I know, to identify themselves and any information will be given to them. That is how they came to know the place I was in and how they were tracking my movements.

I have two options. I can either use this contact to get information or I can use the information I have to go off grid. If he can't find me, none of them can. As far as I've heard, they're not all that brilliant. Just brutal.

~

As I drive by the countryside, their screams still haunt me. It was like some dark force had taken over me and was guiding my every move. In no forms of self-defence do they teach you how to torture a person.

My father was an angry man. We lived away, in a forsaken village with no neighbours or relatives. Our life was simple and routine. He would go to work and my brother and I would have 8 hours to do as we pleased without causing much trouble for mother.

As the oldest, I often took the responsibility of taking care of mother and entertaining my brother at the same time. My father would come home drunk and beat the living lights out of my mother, usually for trivial reasons. The chicken would be overcooked or the fireplace would have no wood.

As I got older, the nightmares got worse. When mother died a few years later, it was my duty to run and protect the family. Father's work no more provided us with adequate money, so I had to work as a maid in various houses all while studying at the same time.

One of my various employments was the house of Mrs. Tonks. She was a lovely lady, with a bit of an eccentric mind. She was a widow and was a guide for little boys and girls to join the Ivy leagues. With her help, I studied. I studied as hard as I could because my education was the one thing that could help me change my life.

One day as I was returning from Mrs. Tonks' house, I saw the scene which changed my life forever. My father was drunk as usual and now in the absence of mother, had taken to beating my little brother. A mere child of 10, he could not defend himself and being weak and petite myself, I could not do much except beg him to let him go and take me instead.

That night as I sat nursing my injuries in my room, I took a vow. No more will I ever get beaten up or let my little brother be a victim of my father's anger. The next day as I went to work, I took my brother with me and left him in the care of Mrs. Tonks.

Every day, I went to work as usual, but only Mrs. Tonks knew that I was really in her house learning how to fight from one of the older boys. Not to hurt, but just enough to defend myself.

But today, as I stood there hurting those men, all I could think about was my father and my brother, but most importantly the person I truly was fighting for, Luca. It was like every emotion I ever felt but magnified. I felt so powerful, like anything and anyone would bend at my will.

~

Their blood keeps flashing before my eyes. I never meant to hurt anyone. All I wanted was to know where my husband is and how I could save him. I stop the car and look at my hands which are still shaking. There are splotches of blood on my clothes, which make me nauseous.

I dig through the duffel bag to see if there are any other clothes that Anton sent for me. I change my clothes and as I breath in the fresh air, it settles my nerves. I still haven't decided what to do and the decision is driving me crazy.

If they get tipped off that three of their men were attacked, there is a possibility that they might be suspicious of anyone asking for information and may require identification more than just a code. So, I've got to ask him questions without asking questions.

I almost call Anton, wanting to update him about what I've been up to, but I realize the less he knows the better. I don't want him to be a target, tortured for information about me.

I look up the number of their contact that I had saved in my phone. I keep debating whether to call him or not. As I keep listing the pros and cons in my head, one of the phones I took from them starts ringing.

The number seems familiar but I somehow cannot place it. I ignore the call, fearing that it maybe used to track me. I drive into the city, trying to come up with a plan.

Every time I try to get those files, something or someone stands in my way. As I keep driving, I watch the roads and the people passing by and I wonder if they all had someone they were running from too. As I keep watching, I notice a familiar car standing in the parking lot of a grocery store. Curiosity consumes me and I swerve left.

I drive in and park two spaces next to the car. A quick peek into the vehicle and I know that I am right. I look down at the passenger seat and see 4 files tied together with a string. If I can't get the files myself, its time for Plan B.

I'll take it from someone who does.