Run With Me (10 page)

I hold the syringe carefully
over her arm as she lies there, unaware of my presence. Then, with a
quick jab, I stab the end into her upper arm and squeeze on the end.
Her eyes pop open immediately but, just as quickly, fold into
themselves once more and disappear back into their sockets. She only
has time to turn to face me, a fear shot like lightning across her
face, before falling unconscious. In that split second I know she
thinks I'm the one who killed her aunt and uncle, who killed her
friend.

But I'm not. I'm the one who's
going to save her.

Kitty

When I wake it takes me a few
moments to get my bearings. It's been like this for days now, ever
since I left LA. I wake up each morning not quite knowing where I am,
until a few moments pass and reality sets back in. This time,
however, those moments don't change anything. I really don't know
where I am. The last I knew I was sitting in my car out in the woods.
Now I'm lying on an uncomfortable bed in what looks to be a motel
room.

There are simple paintings on
the walls. I'm not one for art but I'd call them 'impressionistic' if
pushed into an answer. Then there's a small refrigerator humming
quietly by the wall, with a old box television sat next to it on top
of a wooden table. It's dim in the room, the blinds and heavy
curtains blocking off most of the light from outside. When my eyes
begin to adjust, I notice a shape in the corner. It's the dark shape
of a man, sitting in a chair.

My heart drops into my stomach
as I look at him. Is this the man who killed Tara, who killed my aunt
and uncle? If he is, why am I not dead?

My eyes are still adjusting as
his face grows clearer. His eyes are closed. He's asleep.

I slowly slide to the edge of
the bed and drop my feet to the ground. I'm fully clothed still, but
my shoes have been taken off and placed by the door. I tiptoe over to
them before peering back behind me into the far corner of the room.
The man sits, silent and still as a statue. I turn back and pull on
my left shoe, then my right, before standing and reaching for the
door handle.

“
I wouldn't go out there.”
The voice comes from behind me and I freeze, my hand lingering in
midair above the handle.

“
It's not safe for you,” he
continues. “Nowhere's safe for you now.”

I quickly consider my options. I
could run right now. Turn the handle and rush off into the sunshine.
But I don't know where I am. I don't know if my car's out there. And
by now, every damn cop in the whole state will be looking for me.

“
Who are you?” I blurt out
suddenly, without thinking. “Have you come to kill me?”

I stay looking at the door, my
hand hovering, in case I need to run.

The man stays silent a moment
before answering. “No. But someone else is trying to.”

Now I turn and face him. He
remains seated, sitting casually in the shadows. “Who?” I ask,
even though I already know it's Michael Carmine, or one of his
assassins.

“
You know who Miss Munroe,”
he says. “The question I want to know is why?”

“
Why do you want to know?
And....who are you?” I ask again.

He sighs quietly, almost in
resignation. “Because I was paid to find you. To bring you to him.”

“
So...you know why,” I say,
confused.

I can see the shadow of his head
shaking. “No, I wasn't told.”

“
Well what does it matter, if
you're going to take me back to him anyway?”

He goes silent again.

“
You saw something didn't
you?” he asks. “You saw something you weren't supposed to and now
he wants you out of the picture. Tell me what you saw.”

He's perceptive, or he's not
letting on all he knows. Is he here to get the truth out of me? Is he
here to find out exactly what I know? Maybe Carmine won't kill me if
he thinks I don't know anything?

“
I saw nothing,” I say. “I
don't know why he wants me so much.” My lie is unconvincing and I
know it.

“
So why is he chasing you? Why
has he killed 3 people to get to you. It was meant to be you in the
apartment in LA wasn't it? He didn't know that you had a friend
staying.”

The sight of Tara, shot through
the chest, flashes back across my eyes. I squeeze them tight, as if
to shut it out. “It was my fault,” I whisper. “She died because
of me.”

“
Because you saw something...”
he says again. “Tell me the truth Miss Munroe. What did you see.”

I open my eyes and look into
his. Even in the dim light of the room I can see a fire lit inside
them. This man will not be seduced by my pathetic sidetracking. It's
clear to me that he's a professional, and won't stop until he's
gotten the truth from me. I only dread to think of the means he'll go
to if I don't tell him outright.

“
I saw him shoot someone,” I
blurt out.

“
Where?”

“
Outside his bar in the
parking lot. It was after work. I was leaving out the back and heard
raised voices. I went to see what was going on and that's when I saw
it.”

“
And they saw you?” he asks
quickly.

“
No, I don't think so. As soon
as I saw the guy get shot I ran down the alley before anyone could
see. I remember looking back and there was no one following me. I
don't know how, but someone must have seen me.”

“
CCTV,” he says. “There's
CCTV down the alley and at the front of the bar covering the street.
It's hidden from view, so you won't have seen it.”

CCTV. Makes so much sense
,
I think. A man like Michael Carmine is always going to have cameras
around his offices to warn him of any danger. I remember knocking
over a trashcan at the end of the alley. They will have heard it,
checked the tape, and put two and two together. If only I hadn't
knocked over that can, they might never have known. Then Tara would
never be dead. My family would have been kept safe. And now...now
it's my turn to face the music. I wish they'd just gotten me from the
start. Now all those deaths will forever be on my conscience.

The man ahead of me moves
suddenly, standing up from his chair. He's tall and strong looking,
his dark hair short and neatly cut. He moves forward slowly and I
can't help but step back, cowering against the door. This is it. He's
confirmed that I knew about the killing and now he's going to kill
me. I feel the handle of the door in the small of my back and reach
around, ready to twist it and rush from the room, but his words stop
me in my tracks.

“
Don't open that door,” he
says. “You'll be safer with me.”

He's getting closer now and his
features are growing clearer in the light. His blue eyes sparkle as
they pass a glint of sunshine cutting across the room, but there's no
menace in them. His expression is stern, but doesn't appear
threatening. I'd even say there was pity on his face.

Yet I still cower. I can't help
it given the few days I've had. I feel my hand pulling down on the
handle of the door without thinking, and it cracks open. A shard of
light storms in diagonally across the room, but I still don't turn,
and he doesn't rush towards me. In fact, he stops, several feet away,
and looks me dead in the eye.

“
I'm not going to chase you
Kitty. If you want to go, then go. But I can assure you, you won't
last a minute out there alone.”

“
Why do you care?” I ask.
“Weren't you sent here to take me back....or was it to kill me
yourself?”

His calm demeanor is almost
broken at my words, a light flinch crossing his face. He's silent for
a few moments before speaking again. “I'm here to help you,” he
says, “not hurt you. Now step away from the door and sit down. We
have a lot to talk about.”

I find myself following his
order as my hand gently pushes the door shut. The slit of light
disappears, and once more the room grows dim. I move now towards the
bed and sit down, staring at him the whole time. His eyes don't leave
mine until I'm perched on the end of the bed. Then he turns, pulls
his chair from the corner, and places it down in front of me.

“
Clearly, you know what sort
of danger you're in,” he says, his piercing blue eyes burrowing
into me. “I hope you'll understand that I had to get rid of your
car for your own safety.”

My eyes widen. “My car! I
gasp. “What did you do with it!” That car is my favorite
possession, the most valuable thing I own.

“
That's not relevant,” he
says calmly. “It was going to be a liability for you. You'd have
been caught driving it within a day, so I removed it from the
equation.”

“
Removed it from the equation!
That was my car! It cost me nearly ten grand!”

“
And it was going to cost you
your life too. Trust me, you're much better off without it.”

“
Trust you! You kidnap me in
the night, bring me to a strange hotel room, and destroy my car! What
else have you done?!” I'm slightly exasperated, and potentially
over-reacting. It's just that car – I loved that car.

He doesn't react though. His
steely stare remains plastered to his face, albeit with the hint of a
smile cracking at the corner of his mouth. Clearly my reaction has
amused him somewhat.

“
I take it you got rid of your
phone?” he asks.

I nod, panting a bit.

“
Well then, clearly you have
some sense. Hopefully, then, when you've calmed down, you'll
understand why I did the same with your car.”

I huff my shoulders and shake my
head. It really shouldn't bother me so much, but with everything in
my life crumbling around me that car was just about all I had left. I
mean, I could have got some fake number plates or removed them
completely or something. He didn't have to go destroying it!

“
You haven't used your credit
cards either. That's good. You can't use those again, ever. As soon
as you do you'll have the cops swooping in on you, and worse.”

“
Then how will I get cash?
What will I live on?”

He stands and moves to a bag by
the wall. After he leans down and unzips it he reappears holding a
small wallet. He tosses it over to me and I open it up. Inside is a
bundle of money. I can't tell how much.

“
There's 3 thousand dollars in
there,” he says. “That will do for now.”

“
But....what is this. I can't
take your money.” I must sound incredibly ungrateful, but really
I'm not. I'm just confused.

“
It's not my money,” he
says. “It's yours.”

“
Mine?”

He nods. “Obviously at such
short notice I couldn't get full value, but at least it's something.”

The penny drops. “You sold it?
The car?”

He nods again as he sits back
down in front of me. “Now, that money is your lifeline,” he goes
on, “and it will help you start fresh, if you want to. I know some
people who can help you to disappear, to get a new identity...”

My mind wavers as he speaks.
Start fresh. New identity
. Just give up on my life and run
away? I can't do that. I can't just tuck my tail between my legs and
give up.

“
No...no,” I say, cutting
in. “I don't want to start a new life. Why should I have to?”

“
Because if you don't, you're
dead,” he says bluntly. “Whether the police catch you or Carmine
does, you won't find any protection. Do you have any idea who Michael
Carmine is? What he's capable of? The fact that I'm even sitting here
right now, telling you this, is putting my own life in danger. If he
ever found out, he'd hunt me down too. I can take care of myself, but
you....you wouldn't last. Take my advice Kitty. Run, and don't look
back.”

I realize how selfish I'm being.
This man, this stranger, is helping me – trying to save my life –
and all I can do is moan and disagree. It's just so hard to hear
right now. It's all been happening so fast. One moment I'm happy in
the park with Tara, the next she's dead and I'm on the run from a man
who won't rest until I'm dead too. How did this all happen? How did
it all come to this?

He must see the confusion and
fear in my eyes because his voice suddenly grows more gentle. “Look,
this is your chance for something new. It doesn't happen to everyone,
not in these sorts of situations. You're being given a second chance
here, OK. Please, take it.”

I look into his eyes, and
they're almost pleading with me to agree.

“
Why do you care?” I ask, my
voice turning to a whisper. “Why are you putting yourself in danger
for me?”

His eyes turn down. “Because
it's the right thing to do.”

A silence dawns on the room as
we both retreat into our own thoughts. This man, who was hired to
find me, is suddenly helping me. Why? Because he's suddenly had a
conscience crisis and is turning over a new leaf? Part of me remains
suspicious and doesn't buy it. What can he possibly gain from doing
this? Why would he risk himself for someone he doesn't know?

The question turns over and over
in my mind as the cracks of light from outside begin to weaken. I
just realize that I have no idea what the time is. I have no idea
where we are. I don't even know this man's name. So I ask, and he
tells me.