Chapter 4: Crossing State Lines
The metallic rattle of the master keys against the ring outside the motel door sounded like a death knell in the cramped, damp-smelling room. My heart hammered violently against my ribs, each beat roaring in my ears. I didn't breathe. I didn't move. My gaze locked onto the heavy brass deadbolt, which looked entirely too flimsy to withstand a determined shove.
Lily stirred on the threadbare mattress, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she clutched her stuffed rabbit tighter to her chest. She was barefoot, still wearing the cream-colored dress from the gala—though the hem was now smudged with soot and dust from our hurried exit. I dropped to my knees beside the bed, pressing a trembling finger gently against her lips.
“Shh, sweet girl,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. “Stay right here. Keep your eyes closed and hold bunny tight.”
She blinked sleepily, her big hazel eyes heavy with exhaustion, but she nodded, obediently tucking her chin into the fabric of her toy.
The rattling at the handle stopped. Silence fell over the hallway, heavy and suffocating. I held my breath, waiting for the splintering crack of wood, the heavy boots of Julian’s enforcers pouring into the room. Instead, after a agonizing five-second pause, a muffled grunt echoed from the other side, followed by the heavy scuff of leather shoes retreating down the exterior concrete walkway. The footsteps faded toward the vending machines near the stairs, then vanished entirely into the steady hum of the highway traffic outside.
I exhaled a shaky breath, my knees trembling as I stood back up. It hadn't been them. Not yet. Just some weary traveler in the wrong room, or perhaps a bored night manager doing a lazy round. But the narrow escape left no room for hesitation. We couldn't stay here another minute. The motel was too close to the interstate, too visible, too easy to trace.
Moving with frantic, silent urgency, I scooped up Clara’s leather-bound ledger, shoving it deep into the canvas tote bag alongside a spare change of clothes for Lily and a handful of crumpled cash. I scooped the toddler into my arms, wrapping her in a heavy wool coat that swallowed her small frame. She didn't fuss; she simply buried her face in my shoulder, her breathing slow and trusting.
We slipped out the back window of the ground-floor room, bypassing the front office entirely. The cold morning air hit my face like a physical blow, carrying the damp scent of asphalt and approaching rain. Dawn was just beginning to streak the bruised-gray sky with sickly pale amber over the skyline of the industrial park.
May you like
We walked three blocks away from the motel, keeping low in the shadows of chain-link fences and rusted storage containers until we reached a local transit stop. A rusted commuter bus, coughing black exhaust into the damp air, idled at the curb. The destination sign on the front flickered through a series of coastal towns before settling on Port Harbor – Express.
I paid the driver with crumpled singles, avoiding eye contact as the man grunted and pulled the lever to close the pneumatic doors. As the bus lurched forward, pulling away from the city limits and merging onto the grey ribbon of the highway, I pressed my forehead against the cold window glass. Behind us, the glittering towers of the DeLuca estate vanished into the morning smog. Ahead lay the open sea, and the dangerous, uncertain road to truth.
