Chapter Thirteen - Fiona

The lights read green, but Chicago's cars are stuck—not moving on the I-90. "Come on, come on, come on," I grit out under my breath, banging the steering wheel as I will the stagnant traffic to move forward. I send a quick text message to my friends, telling them not to come. I don't want them to be in danger from the Bratva. The morning sun beats down through my window, pounding on the side of my face, and I've got no idea what my next move should be. It's scary to think how I gave Ruslan the wrong number and he still found me so quickly. And my logic is, if he found me that quickly, then he's already figured out that I'm Luca's daughter.

The only thing I'm aiming for is to leave Chicago, and fast.

My leg bounces with anxiety as I blow out an exasperated breath. Maybe I can head towards Ohio, and back to the sanctuary of my mother's house—but then again, if I do, I'm putting her life in jeopardy. I look out at the haze of smoldering traffic smoke, wondering if I've got enough courage to pull off a getaway from a Russian mobster.

So, what's your next move, Fiona? Lost in the battle of my own thoughts, a horn beeps loudly behind me as I run a red light smashing my foot down to the accelerator in panic. Wincing, I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, narrowly missing the oncoming Jeep, swinging the wheel hard to the right to avoid hitting it. " Shit! " I spit out, saliva hitting my dash, and I feel as if my heart's pressing against my rib cage.

My game plan is to make it to the I-290 and head straight in the direction of Aurora, but even as the traffic starts to move, I don't like my chances. Ruslan's got too many tools at his disposal not to catch me.

" Fuck! " I thump the wheel, hoping I'm not going to have to keep crawling through this basic Chicago traffic, but as I check my rearview mirror, the clench in my stomach loosens. I'm grateful it's moving at a flowing speed— finally.

Bumping over the ridge of the upcoming curb with panic, I straighten up as the faint sound of a text message forces me on high alert. Sweat prickles on my skin as the traffic opens up and I pick up my phone. On the screen I see a text message from an unknown number.

I read it, a chill firing through my bones. Run from me, Red October. I like the challenge. I'm going to hunt you down.

Shit. I turn off my location, simultaneously keeping an eye on the traffic as I glide in and out of the lanes, turning left onto I-290. I put two and two together, figuring the sleeping pills have worn off, and either he's up and surprised I've left, or he's found out who I really am.

Steadying my resolve, I reason he won't be able to catch up with me. As I hit the road, driving past Columbus Park, my stomach steps in, growling loudly back at me. I have to eat. I'm carrying a baby now. Ruslan's baby. Ruslan's sleek, tall body and haunting eyes fill my head as I gulp hard, doing my best to shut out how good it felt for him to touch me.

There's one clear-cut decision I've already made, and that's to keep the baby. Checking the mirror, I look up to see if he's following me, but there aren't any firm signs of me being tailed.

Thinking I'm safe, I make a pit stop near Forest Park, stopping at a diner. Taking a deep breath, I force myself out of the car. All you need to do is get a sandwich and then keep driving. When you get far enough away, you can call your mother.

I park, killing the engine, and darting into the busy diner, thankful there's not many people dining in. I let my eyes skim over the patrons. Two truckers in the back booth. One elderly man reading the paper. A family eating breakfast, and a friendly face greeting me.

"Good morning. What can I getcha this morning?" the young server asks.

"Hi, I-I wanted to see if you have any breakfast muffins or a sandwich?" I ask her, turning back quickly to glance out of the diner window, watching to see if Ruslan's on my tail, but all I see is the whir of passing traffic.

"Gotta go, huh?" the waitress asks, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm in a hurry," I tell her, whisking a hand through my hair.

"No problem. Larry's quick on the grill this morning and you're lucky. Just earlier we experienced a breakfast rush going on. You've got good timing."

"Great, great," I gush out, my tongue dry. Shakily, I pick up the laminated menu, running a finger down it and picking out menu items. "Ah, I'll take a fruit salad and a breakfast muffin to go."

"Great. To go. " The waitress chirps, handing the takeaway order to the chef, and even though the order takes less than five minutes to get to me, it's five minutes longer than it needs to be. I'm in a race against time, and if I don't get to safety quick enough, Ruslan's going to find me. Shuddering, I hate to imagine what he's going to do when he catches me. Once the waitress arrives back with my order, I beat a hasty path to the door, and my heart sinks to my feet when I see the large black sedan out front, slowing down and pulling into the diner parking lot.

Mortification floods my senses as his vehicle pulls in next to mine. The unshakeable weight of doom is sitting on my shoulders, and I've only got a few seconds to get inside my car, and haul ass. I take it, almost knocking a lumbering woman's shoulder off in the process. It was her fault for lingering at the door.

"Hey! Watch where you're going lady."

I don't care who I just ran into. This is a matter of life and death. Driven by fear, I reach my car, clicking the remote beeper and practically rocket launching myself into the driver's seat. Cranking the engine, I reverse with a loud tire screech, swinging wildly to avoid the incoming diner traffic. I gain a few middle fingers and obscenities for my trouble, but it's not something I can worry about right now.

I swing the car back into acceleration as my heart races at full speed, and I hit the I-290 on a mission to evade Ruslan. "Fuck! Hurry up. Shit. I have to get away," I mutter, feeling nauseous, and worried about the health of my baby as I slide neatly between two cars to avoid being shot at. I know Ruslan has guns in his vehicle, and if I can avoid being shot, then I'll do everything I can to stop it.

Ruslan isn't giving up, though, quickly catching up and matching the speed of my vehicle. His windows are tinted so I can't see inside. Conducting a quick glance to the left, I check if I can pull off a quick maneuver into a nearby slip lane. I'm able to swing it, knowing I'm going the wrong way, but I can't turn back now. The Omerta files are stowed away under my seat in their special box, but I can't let Ruslan catch me, otherwise… I'm as good as dead.

Ruslan's on my tail, and craftier than I realized, following me into the slip lane anticipating what I was about to do. I'm in a drive-through town I'm not familiar with, but the sign up ahead shows me the way to get back on track to the nearest highway. Blindly, I swerve from lane to lane, doing my best to keep Ruslan guessing. Keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead, I do my best not to look up at the mirror, punching forward and finally reaching the freeway. The lanes flare out as sweat trickles down my back, my hands white-knuckled to the steering wheel. We've left suburbia behind and are out on the open road, and I make the mistake of checking my mirror, only to see the back door of Ruslan's van opening and a gun pointing at the back of my vehicle.

Sheer horror overtakes as I slow down, attempting to shake off the shooter. It's not Ruslan, it's some other man I've never seen before. Probably his associate. Ruslan recovers as I speed up, and the cars peter out around us. He's willing to open fire on me in broad daylight. The guy is a madman.

I can't lose my baby, even if it is his, but there's nothing I can do about the man shooting out my tire. My car hits the skids as my tire deflates, and the car starts clunking along the road.

"Shit, shit, shit. What is going on?" I keep driving, not knowing how to keep the car on the road, but it's a fruitless exercise and I'm going to have to come up with another plan.

The back door of the other vehicle closes and Ruslan turns up the heat, speeding up and bumping my vehicle to the edge of the road. There's forest on both sides of the road, and I have no other option. I'm going to flee.

Pulling over to the side of the road, I stop the car, yanking my keys out of the ignition, and running into the forest. There's a sign that catches my eye. Coghlan Forest. I pump my legs and arms as fast as I can past the spruce trees, and into the main clearing, my lungs burning. When I look back, I see the large outline of a male frame running after me, and there's no chance I can outrun Ruslan. He's too tall, too powerful, and too fast, but the main advantage I have is that I've already got a head start on him. I'm confident I've put enough distance between him and me, and stop in the middle of the forest clearing, sucking in oxygen.

I've lost him. Good. I stop, pausing my escape and finding the nearest water fountain. As I gulp down the water, I clutch my heart, scared it's going to stop beating, and with an outpouring of sweat mingled with fear drowning my body.

Once I catch my breath, I take in my surroundings. There's a few campsites, along with a toilet block off to the side, and the whole outline of the clearing is lined by pine trees.

Okay, okay, I've made it. I'm away from him. Now I just have to get back to my car and somehow to get back on the road again. Safely.

Wiping my brow, a slight wind picks up, but there's something else that makes my teeth chatter, and it's not the sudden onset of wind. Hairs stand on the back of my neck as I turn around, Ruslan appears poised, and deadly with a proud grin on his face and his hand burrowed deep in his pockets.