I Know Lucy (The Fugitive Series) (26 page)

“You don’t know shit, Zach.” She shook her head, agony cresting over her expression. “Bring this guy down? I can’t do that! You don’t know what you’ve started.”

“I just want you to be safe…and you won’t be until you stop running and end this.” I reached for her hand, but she stepped away from me.

Her sad eyes tore at my soul. “You need to leave me alone and you need to tell your uncle to drop this.” Her voice was a soft whisper.

“Dani, please don’t go.” I took a step towards her.

“DO NOT follow me.” She raised her hand, forcing me to stand my ground. Her eyes were filled with such agonizing pain. I didn’t understand it. Couldn’t she see I was trying to help her?

“Dani, please,” I whispered, but she turned and ran.

I watched her race over the grass, my heart beating a dull rhythm inside my chest. I had no idea where she was going and I knew trying to follow her would only push her further away.

Tipping my head up to the sky, I let out a soft string of curses before flinging my bag over my shoulder and stomping my way to what would no doubt be a detention.

I couldn’t figure out why Dani was so freaked. She’d survived five years without that cop catching her. He probably didn’t even remember who she was anymore. She was being paranoid. Uncle Alex wasn’t going to be flashing his name across the sky. My uncle was all subtlety until it came to the day of print and then he nailed these crooked bastards to the wall.

After a verbal thrashing from my Economics teacher I slumped into my seat, avoiding Elliot’s heated glare. All I wanted to do was go and find Dani, make things right. I knew she needed time and I’d give her that, but then we had to talk. I conceded that I’d have to start with an apology. I did break my promise, but it was for a good cause and I had to convince her of that.

My life was not in danger. I tried to tell myself that asking a few questions had never gotten anybody killed, but I knew I’d be a fool to believe it.

Chapter 30

December 2013

Lucy had been holed up in the apartment for three days solid. She was getting a major case of the jitters, worrying about Marlin. Shorty was keeping pretty quiet, assuring her that his contacts were finding out what they could.

He was pretty silent and serious whenever he was around and it was getting to be too much.

“I’m going for a run.” She came out of her room in sweat pants, a light hoody and her running shoes. She had her ipod strapped to her arm and earplugs already nestled in place. She hadn’t turned the music on yet.

Shoving her cap down low, she looked at Shorty for approval.

“Don’t be too long and keep that hat on your head.”

“I’ll avoid everyone, I promise.”

She turned on her music, only just catching Shorty’s last words. “Just keep your eyes open, love.”

And she did. The sun was high, the sky a brilliant blue as she jogged down the steep street. She kept her eyes down, avoiding contact and making sure her pace was fast and even. People paid no attention to her, only the odd leering gaze from a few men, but they felt harmless enough. It felt good to be out breathing in the fresh air. Her jitters eased with each stride and after an hour she was puffing her way back up the hill feeling refreshed and invigorated. She knew Shorty would probably tell her off for taking too long, but she’d decided to walk most of the way home. She felt free and alive for the first time in days.

The feeling fled the second she reached her front door. It was ajar, the broken lock a testament to the force with which it had been smashed open.

“Shorty?” She whispered, taking off her cap and easing into the room. Her heart was in her throat, pounding so quickly, she thought it might scamper free and leave her.

A soft groan came from behind the couch. She spotted his foot and dashed towards him. Vaulting over the cushions, she landed next to him, her eyes flooding with instant tears. There was so much blood. His face was a mess, his nose smashed in, his left eye swelling shut. Blood coated his teeth and dripped from his mouth. Her fingers shook as she reached for his middle. His red-slicked hands were holding his stomach together, he had multiple stab wounds peppering his torso.

She didn’t know how he could still be alive.

Terror swept through her as she realized he wouldn’t remain that way for long.

“What do I do?” She trembled. “Shorty, what do I do?”

“Run.” Blood sputtered over his lips. “Don’t let him win, Cy. You run and you live.” His breaths were short.

She shook her head denying his words. “Who did this to you?”

“Don’t ask…questions now…” His voice hitched. He was running out of air. “Run. Live…that’s how you’ll beat him.”

His eyes closed and she bent over him, not caring that her hands were being covered with his dark blood. “Shorty, please stay with me. Let me help you.”

“Go.” His voice was a soft breath on her face. “Live for me, love.” And then the breath was gone.

“Shorty?” She gently shook his head, pleading for some kind of response. “Shorty, no.” Cries shook out of her throat, making her quiver. This couldn’t be happening.

She wanted to rest her head on Shorty’s chest and sob, but despair had no time to linger.

“Hello, Lucy.”

She gasped, her blue eyes landing on the one man who was systematically taking everything from her. He stood on the other side of the couch, meticulously wiping blood from his hands and knife. His pale eyes were gleaming with an amused darkness that made Lucy want to curl into a ball and block the world out forever.

“My name’s Cyan,” she whispered, making him chuckle.

“I might almost believe that, but you, my darling little girl, have eyes just like your daddy’s.”

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs had literally stopped working. She felt like her body froze for a split second, her senses coming crystal clear as he wiped that knife.

“I worked it out in Sacramento, you know. A little too late, I have to admit.” He tipped his head. “But I just could not shake you from my mind. There was something about the way you looked at me with those soulful eyes of yours. And then one night it just came to me. Jack’s face popped into my head, his wide eyes pleading for release. So pathetic.” Hearing him speak of her father with that pitiful smile on his face made a swift rage tear through Lucy’s insides.

“How’d you find me?”

“Well it was pretty damn hard at first. You’re like smoke. I feel as though every time I get close you seem to disappear into thin air. You can imagine the pleasure I had extracting the information from your skinny young friend. You know he was a lot stronger than he looked. He held out.”

The air punched back into her lungs, making them expand and squeeze at a rapid pace. Poor Marlin. She wanted to scream at this man, throw herself at him and scratch his flesh raw, but she knew it was pointless. Marlin was dead and her dying in a rage wouldn’t bring him back to life.

“Truth is though, it wasn’t until your moronic friend down there started asking the wrong questions.” His expression became granite hard. “You don’t find me, Lucy. I find you. I’m the carnivore in this equation. The people who try to find out what I do become my prey. Am I making myself clear?”

Her head bobbed of its own accord.

“I always win, which is why I’ve never stopped looking for you. I wouldn’t call it an obsession really. More like a pet project.” He grinned. “I promised your father I’d find you one day. It may have taken me five years, but I’m a man of my word.”

The knife was now clean, wiped to a high sheen that would soon be tainted with her blood.

He took a step towards her and that one little movement was enough to start up her frozen limbs. She jumped from the floor and turned to the glass ranch slider behind her.

“You’ve got nowhere to run, Lucy!”

She spun back, knowing he was right. If she made a go for the door, he’d throw that knife at her. If she tried to run past him, he’d snaffle her up and she knew as soon as he had her within reach it was over.

So that left only one option.

She turned back to the glass, ducking low as the knife sailed towards her. It skimmed her arm leaving a burning sting before hurtling into the ranch slider. The glass splintered with a loud crack and Lucy took her chance. Lifting her arms over her head, she ran straight for the door, ploughing through the transparent wall. Glass shattered around her, raining across the balcony. She felt the splinters dig into her skin, but was too fueled to stop and notice them. Scrambling up, she slung her leg over the balcony and let go.

“No!” The man hollered, sounding horrified that she would take the plunge without thinking.

Her body fell swiftly. She landed on the lid of the dumpster and cried out in pain. The jarring shock radiated through her body as she rolled off and landed on the concrete. She was feeling every kind of pain, but didn’t have time to stop and analyze it. Glancing down at her leg, she saw a shard of glass protruding from her left calf muscle, it wasn’t huge, but it would slow her down.

The bulky killer snickered from the balcony above before turning back into the house. He was coming for her and if he caught her she was going to be introduced to a whole new level of suffering. She had pissed him off. The delight he would take in hurting her was enough to make bile shoot into her mouth.

She held it back, shaking her head to ward off the dizziness.

Sucking in a quick breath, she tugged the glass from her leg and threw it aside. With a hiss, she forced her aching body to the fence, scrambling up it just as the killer came down the driveway. His knife spun towards her, nicking the side of her hand. She bit back her curse, holding the hand to her side as she pushed through the neighbor’s backyard. Jumping over a toy slide, she raced past the trashcans, pulling them over in her wake. Any small advantage she could get, right?

Her feet hit the street and she dashed across it, fueled by the pounding steps behind her. She knew it wouldn’t be long until he caught up with her.

She didn’t turn to see him as she crossed the street. Brakes squealed and cars swerved as she raced blindly through the traffic, knocking her hip on someone’s wing mirror.

“Hey! Watch it, kid!”

Her eyes darted back to see if the killer was just behind her. He jumped over a car bonnet and slid down the other side. He was agile for such a big man. Fear skirted through her, making her arms pump that much faster as she took the next corner, weaving her way through the streets and down into the busy section of town. The moment she reached Chinatown the crowds multiplied. Just what she needed. She slowed her pace, weaving past the fruit stalls and ducking behind vehicles. She was suddenly aware of her bloody hands and raggedy appearance, plus she was limping slightly. Ducking her head, she lifted her hoodie over her hair and tried to keep her pace steady and fluid, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She shoved her bloody hands into her pockets and risked a glance behind her. The tall man’s white blond hair stuck out amongst the crowd as he shoved his way through.

“Get out of my way,” he barked.

Lucy sniffed in a breath and crouched behind a group of ladies who were debating with a seller in a fast, punchy language she assumed was Chinese. The killer glided past her and as soon as his head turned the other way, she crept backwards. Staying low, she walked with bent knees until she reached a crowded shop entrance. She quietly squeezed through and pressed herself against the wall, watching through the glass door.

No one seemed to notice her, they were all too busy talking to each other over bowls of divine smelling soup. The tinge of spices and curry wafted up her nostrils, making her stomach cramp. She pushed her fist into her abdomen, begging it not to make a sound.

She spotted a wave of blond hair and her stomach shrunk back into a tight knot.

The tall man’s head swiveled over the crowd as he hunted her down. She stayed still not daring to breathe as his eyes skimmed the store entrance. The virulent fury in his expression was enough to melt her innards, but she managed to keep her legs upright. It was the longest five minutes the world had ever known as he scrutinized the crowd around him, but eventually he let out a string of curses and roughly shoved his way forward.

As soon as he was gone, she ducked back into the traffic and carefully worked her way in the opposite direction. She needed a place to hide and regather herself. Somewhere safe where no one would find her.

She also needed her stuff. Did she risk going back to their apartment?

No, she couldn’t. What if he returned while she was there? She doubted he’d let her jump through any more windows. She winced, the thought bringing all her aches and pains to the forefront.

She needed to check out her wounds and fast. The ache in her side could easily be a cracked rib from landing on that dumpster, not to mention her throbbing calf muscle and the mammoth size bruise no doubt forming on her hip. Her clothes were cut and bloodied. If she didn’t remedy the situation fast, she’d stand out and someone would tell someone. That cop may not have been able to find her before, but he sure as hell would in San Francisco. She sensed it was his home turf. He must have moved from L.A. sometime in the last five years. The irony that she’d moved to the same place was crushing.