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“Get in the car, hurry up,” Marcus says, motioning to the open door. I slide into the seat, and he rushes to the driver’s side.
“Marcus, my father,” I gasp between breaths while slipping my seatbelt on. “Can you message him? Tell him the plan?”
“He already knows, but let him know,” Marcus tosses his phone to me. I quickly type out a message, and within seconds, my father’s reply lights up the screen:
Nathan - Getting ready now. We’ll lie low at Grandma’s for a week. Marcus will come back for us. Be careful, my firefly.
I clutch the phone, relief flooding through me. We’ll make it out—my family, we’ll finally be free from Leone’s clutches.
“Everything good?” Marcus says, just as the engine roars to life, and we speed out of the underground parking lot and away from the casino, leaving behind the fluorescent lights of the hell I’ve lived since going into those underground games. The night swallows us whole as Marcus navigates the streets.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice shaking with emotion.
“Save it until we’re in the air,” he replies, eyes fixed on the road. “Then, thank me all you want.”
My heart pounds against my ribcage. We’re racing against time, against fate, against a monster who would do anything to keep me caged. Marcus’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as we swerve onto a barely lit back road, his knuckles whitening with the effort. The city lights fade into the distance, and my pulse quickens with the uncertainty of our escape.
“Whose plane is it?” I ask, trying to piece together the puzzle of our getaway.
“Dr. Stevens,” he says through clenched teeth, the car accelerating beneath us. “He owes me a favor.”
A favor? My mind races, wondering what kind of leverage Marcus has over a doctor who could secure us a private jet at a moment’s notice.
“Must be some favor,” I mutter, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror, half expecting to see Leone’s goons tailing us.
Marcus swerves around a sharp bend, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he pushes the car to its limits. The road is empty, stretching out before us like a dark ribbon under the moonlight.
“Dr. Stevens owes you for what exactly?” I ask, gripping the edge of my seat as we take another turn.
“An issue at the hospital,” Marcus says, his eyes fixed on the road. “They were going to take the fall for a mistake that wasn’t theirs. I made it disappear.”
I nod, “What about your sister?” I press further, knowing how much she means to him.
He glances at me briefly, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “She’ll be safe. Dr. Stevens will make sure of it.”
The car rumbles beneath us and I can’t help casting a nervous glance over my shoulder. It seems too easy. Yet I can almost taste the freedom on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating.
“Once we’re in the air...” I trail off, the thought both terrifying and thrilling.
“We’re untouchable,” he finishes for me, his voice a low promise.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the tension coils tighter within the confines of the car, an unspoken energy that crackles with each passing second. Escape is close; I can feel it in the tremble of my fingers and the quickening of my pulse.
THIRTY-EIGHT
MILO
Fallon hasn’t returned. I grab the radio off the desk and lean against the cool wall, my heart pounding like a drum, wondering why she is taking so long. Every second stretches into an eternity. Fallon’s been gone too long. Is she alright? The unease coils tighter in my gut. She knows better than to draw attention when Vittorio is around. Stepping outside, Leone doesn’t even notice me leave as I press the button on the radio.
“Rocco,” I bark into the radio, keeping my voice low, “has Fallon come out of the restroom yet?”
Static hisses before Rocco’s reply slices through. “Not yet.”
“Check now.” My order is clipped and sharp. I don’t need to tell him this isn’t normal; the urgency in my tone does that.
I don’t wait for his response. Instead, my mind races through scenarios, each more grim than the last. If she’s planning something stupid, it’ll be on my head. Leone won’t care for excuses. I knew I should have gone with her.
I press the radio to my lips again, waiting for Rocco’s update. Seconds pass, too slow, too fast, all at once. When he finally returns to the line, his voice is taut.
