Page 21 of Run for Her Life
B: Tonight 8 p.m.
A rushing whoosh of air fanned her face and suddenly, the train zipped past her with a final hiss, and Zoe could have sworn she heard a whisper—Emily.
“I would like a hot chocolate.” Zoe beamed at the teenager with acne behind the counter. “Large. Extra-large,” she added, noting the sulking, gray sky through the window. “Do you want anything, Lisa?”
Lisa shook her head.
Outside, the wind swept the litter up into the air. A billboard flickered in the distance advertising the annual carnival—Pineview Falls Carnival.The wordssurvive if you canflashed in neon red, making Zoe shiver. The bleakness of Pineview Falls was so strong that she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that zombies came out at night.
“That would be three ninety-nine,” he said.
Zoe pulled out a five-dollar bill along with a picture of Annabelle. “Have you seen this woman?”
“Uhm…”
She showed her badge. “FBI. She came here two days ago and got a coffee around 5:30 p.m.”
It was a stretch. Zoe didn’t expect anyone in the service industry to remember customer faces. By the end of a long working day they all looked the same. She was already formulating a plan to charm the manager to let them view the security footage rather than having to get a court order.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen her a couple times here.” He scratched his head. “That’s Anna, right?”
“Yes, Annabelle.” Lisa’s voice climbed an octave. “She was here two days ago?”
“Yeah. She often dropped by to hang out with Jackie.”
“Who is Jackie?” Zoe scoured her memory for the name but it was unfamiliar.
“She works here. They’re always talking intensely in that corner.”
“And where is Jackie?” Zoe asked. “We need to talk to her.”
The boy shrugged. “No idea. She hasn’t shown up to work for two days. It’s unlike her. Overheard the manager complain because she hasn’t been answering her phone.”
Zoe’s stomach clenched. A slippery feeling bloomed in her chest. She looked at Lisa, who had turned pale. The possibility hung heavy between them, as dreary as the weather outside.
Could Jackie be in danger?
THIRTEEN
Sweat trickled down Zoe’s back. Her clothes stuck to her like a second skin. Her breaths were jerky and her heart careened lazily. She tightened her hands into fists, knuckles cracking and blood pounding. The chorus of people chanting names and hooting dissolved in the background and so did their faces.
All Zoe saw was one face—Viktor Axenov. It washimwho circled her in the ring and not the brute Benny had arranged her match with. Her vision molded around him until she only saw him. He lunged forward but she moved deftly to one side, delivering a sharp uppercut. Before he had a chance to recover, she looped him and struck him behind the knee.
His legs buckled and down he went with a grunt. This is what she would have done to Viktor. But she had been ambushed. He was strong. Unlike some of the men she fought in these underground fight clubs, that man had a defined, specific skill set that came from training and not just experience. His movements had been sharp and controlled; his blows had been effective.
She wrapped an arm around her opponent’s neck and locked it in place. His body writhed; his arms flailed as he tried to free himself. But Zoe tightened her grip, crushing his windpipe withher arm. She let the rage drive her. It pumped through her body, burning her insides, coating them with a thick layer of ash.
She was so close to finding out who Rachel was hiding from.Viper. The man who pulled Viktor’s strings. What had Rachel stolen from him? Who was so powerful that he had found Rachel in witness protection? Why had she lied to the police about Rachel’s death? Each question burrowed deeper into her skin.
Soon the opponent transformed into the man she saw at the subway station yesterday. Then suddenly his face blurred—the faceless entity who had sent her the lock of hair and buried Annabelle Stevens in the woods. And then his face changed again.
This time she saw her own face.
A sharp thread of shock pulled through her and she let go of her opponent, staggering backward and gasping.
The crowd around her erupted as the man went slack-jawed and dropped unconscious. The referee, Benny, raised her hand in triumph. But Zoe didn’t register anything—not the noise, not her body’s soreness, not that sweet feeling of victory.
Because she knew deep down that it wasn’t Rachel’s killer or the other bad people in her life she wanted to inflict pain upon;shewas the biggest villain of her life.
