Page 58 of House of Lies

As I crumple to the ground, I realize that perhaps allowing Domenico to help me wouldn’t have been such a terrible idea.

Here’s another lie for you. I hate you.

I remember her words.

I smile faintly before everything fades into darkness.

CHAPTER 35

Caelia

I continue running until I can no longer push my tired feet further. I briefly borrowed Mattia’s phone to check the map and get my bearings, but I quickly disposed of it, switching it off and crushing it beneath my heel with a heavy heart. It could have been helpful, but I refuse to give him the chance to track me.

I gaze at my reflection in the restaurant bathroom mirror. I have been running without shoes, my feet sore, bruised, and scrapped, like most parts of my body. My stomach recoils. I don’t have enough strength to move, and I throw up in the sink. I can’t stop the tears from falling. It will take me a while to get to the bus station in my condition, but I can’t stop now. I can’t go back. I shouldn’t have stabbed him. My foolish heart warns me I’ve made a mistake. The thought of him dying makes it stop completely.

“Stop it,” I whisper to my reflection in the mirror.

I don’t know how to stop. I understand I had to do this, but it doesn’t make it easier. I have been planning this for months, and now I want to go back in time and compromise. Talk to him.

“You’re so stupid,” I mutter, uncertain if talking to myself is a good sign or if I have suffered a concussion.

I clean my wounds, enduring the pain as I dry my feet off and slip my shoes back on. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it enough not to appear like I just escaped from hell. And then I set off. I exit through the same back door I entered, slipping away unnoticed.

The pounding rhythm of my heart echoes in my ears. I struggle to breathe properly. I keep to back alleys, lingering in the shadows. Since I don’t have any money to pay for a taxi to the bus station, I have to walk. I’m sure the journey would have been much sweeter if I hadn’t carried this regret for my actions. I’m so tempted to borrow a phone from someone to call Dom and ask him to pick me up, but I haven’t completely lost my mind yet.

I keep walking, looking over my shoulder every five seconds. This is how my life is going to be from now on. Always on the run, always looking over my shoulder.

By the time I reach the bus station, it’s pretty late. I make my way to the locker. I asked Cosima to rent it under an alias, placing all my trust in her. This is what I asked her to do. The only thing I asked of her. The day I took her to the clinic, I gave her a bag of cash, clothes, hair dye, glasses, and everything else I thought I could use on the run. However, the plan was to change my appearance before fleeing. I take a second to consider this as I key in the locker code. I don’t know if she helped me, so I keep my expectations low. My hands grow clammy, and my breath hitches as I open the locker door.

Everything is there. Relief floods over me, and I press my forehead against the cool metal, allowing myself a moment to cry. Then I remind myself to keep moving, and so I do. I use the restroom to change my clothes, discarding the dress and heels in the trash. They won’t do me any good where I’m going. Not that I know where that is. My thoughts continue to drift back to Mattia—the look of surprise on his face as I thrust the knife into him. I would give anything to know if he’s still alive. If he is, he must think that I’m a heartless bitch. If he isn’t, I’m sure he will haunt me from beyond the grave. My sister added two wigs for me as well. I never loved her more than I do in this second. I struggle to look composed as I make the last adjustments in the mirror. I don’t recognize myself, which is a good thing. It still makes me feel strange. My red hair is all hidden under a dark wig. I wear jeans, sneakers, a black T-shirt, and a leather jacket. I put the fake glasses on, throwing the bag on my shoulder.

“Where to?” The woman at the ticket office smiles at me, her fingers poised above the keyboard, ready to type.

“I’d like a ticket for the next departing bus.” I smile, hoping it’s not as unsettling as it feels.

She looks at me suspiciously, and I glance over my shoulder, feeling like I’m being watched. However, no one is there.

“That would be to Atlanta,” she responds after a few keystrokes. “It’s one hundred thirty-eight dollars, and the bus leaves in twenty minutes from line seven.”

“I’ll take it.” I retrieve the cash from my pocket.

The woman prints the ticket and hands it to me as I pass her the money.

“You take care, love.”

I nod, refraining from forcing another terrified smile. Atlanta, here I come.

I won’t remain there. Getting on a bus and heading toward my final destination would be stupid. I still don’t know where that is. I have no ID. No passport. Mattia keeps those in his office safe, and I never found the code. I’m no one. This is fitting since I don’t know who I am now.

This was supposed to be a moment of celebration, but it feels more like a funeral.

CHAPTER 36

Kaz

I’ve been all stitched up. It didn’t take too long for Dmitri to find me unconscious near the car. Despite the doctor’s advice to rest for a few days, I refuse to listen. I find myself in the penthouse, struggling to contain my rage. Caelia has left traces of herself everywhere—her cardigan on the sofa, an open book turned upside down, her hand cream abandoned on the windowsill. Mismatched slippers lie near the couch, one blue and the other pink.

“Sir, you should listen to the doctor.”