18. Cole

Pulling up to Anya’s elementary school in the middle of Manhattan was a strange affair for me. It was all coming to an end and this would be the last time I would be picking her up from here.

I hated running, but running was the only way … for now.

I had plans. Anya and I would not be running for long. A year at most. Anya would not be forced to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life.

I parked my car and headed to the principal’s office. I knew exactly what to say and it didn’t take me time to get her out of class. There was a medical emergency with her absent mother.

My daughter walked towards me worriedly. They would not have given her any reason why she was being taken out of class, but her instinctive questions were, “What’s wrong? Is it Mom? Is Mom alright?”

I smiled at her reassuringly. “Your mom is fine, but it’s time.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“Can I say goodbye to Melanie?”

I shook my head.

She nodded, and I took her hand and walked her to the waiting car. As I leaned down to buckle her in, she asked, “Will I ever see Mom again?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “Just not right now.”

“But what if she forgets all about me?”

“She won’t ever do that, honey. Moms don’t ever forget their children. She told me she misses you.”

“She did?”

“Hmmm…”

Her eyes were enormous. “When did she tell you that?”

“This morning.”

Her mouth opened with shock. “Oh.”

I shut the door and went around to the driver”s seat, and soon we were on the road.

“So … if she misses me, why didn’t she come to see me?’ she asked.

I debated whether to tell her, then decided the fewer lies I told the stronger we would be as a team.

“Because your mother fell in love with a new man, but he’s not very nice. He doesn’t really like children and he could try to hurt you.”

“So she chose him instead of me?” she asked sadly.

“No. It’s not as simple as that. When she chose him, she didn’t know he was one of the bad guys and now it’s too late. So really, she’s protecting you by not contacting you. Do you understand how much your mother must love you to do that for you?”

She nodded, her pigtails bouncing against her serious face.

“Hey,” I called, taking my eyes off the road.

”Yes, Daddy?”

“I know that you miss her a lot, but staying away from her is the best thing for both of us. I say this to you because I found some letters you wrote to her earlier this morning.”

”I wasn’t going to send them. And anyway, I wouldn’t know where to send them,” she muttered rebelliously.

I gave her a look. ”You weren’t going to send them, but by just writing them you already planted the possibility. Someday when you really miss her you might decide to send them and that will give a clue to the bad guys about where we are living. You understand that, right?”

She was silent for a while, and I gave her the time to process. Eventually, she nodded. ”I”m sorry, Daddy.”

”Don”t be. Ultimately it”s my responsibility, and I am working to make everything better. Today we’re going to our new home, far away from anyone who knows us.”

Her eyes widened as she turned to me. ”We’re going today?”

”Yes, we are. There you’ll be able to ride horses, plant vegetables, and paint.”

”Plant vegetables?” She made a face, and I had to laugh out loud. She was so unbearably cute.

”You never know. You might love it,” I said.

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so.”

I took a left and pulled into Mike’s automobile workshop.

A man”s loud whistling rang out just as I got out. ”Whoa! This is it?”

”This is her,” I replied, and we both turned around to look at my matt black Lamborghini. I knew this would be the last time I would see her, but felt nothing. Which was strange when I remembered how excited I had been to purchase her. I guess, no luxury or lifestyle was worth the safety of my daughter.

”How much do you expect her to fetch?” I asked as I motioned to Anya to stay put, then walked with him.

”Quarter of a million,” he replied. ”I’ve been peddling the specs for the past few weeks and I have an Arab from Bahrain and a Chinese businessman interested.”

I nodded. ”That”s good.”

”They were a bit suspicious as to why you”re selling it so cheaply, but I explained that payment has to be in Bitcoin. That seemed to sit well.”

”Alright,” I replied. ”I collect the Chevy now and leave the Lambo with you so you”re free to complete the process.”

”Cool,” he said and we entered the workshop. He led to an old Chevy ready and waiting.

”She looks good,” I nodded. ”Did you polish her up?”

”Nope. You told me the rougher the better, but knowing you”d pick her up today, I ordered a wash. The scuffs are still there, but that’s just the way you want it, right?”

”Yes,” I replied, amused by the disbelief and wonder that was still in his tone.

”Why anyone would dispose of a brand new Lamborghini and overhaul a 2004 Chevy Impala instead to become their primary mode of transport is beyond me.”

”But with the upgrades you’ve done, it should be on par with the Lamborghini, right?” I asked.

He gave me a dry look. ”I”m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

I smiled. ”Walk me through the specs again.”

He popped the hood open. ”Upgraded camshaft for the output and airflow. Aftermarket headers, performance air filters, exhaust system, and the increased horsepower, of course. Turbocharger kit, upgraded to an automatic transmission of course, and—” he stepped back. ”Upgraded rear to handle the increased torque. Stronger axles and adjustable coilovers. Larger brakes, brake pads, roll cage, high-flow exhaust system – the whole works.”

I nodded. ”So how fast can it go now?”

”Hmm ... 0-60 in about 4-5 seconds. Originally, she was limited to 130 miles per hour, but with the upgrade, she can go up to 150 miles per hour.”

I nodded again. ”I like that. It”ll do.”

”All that”s left now is for you to test it.”

”I’ll do that now.”

He looked at me curiously. ”You going far?”

”Hopefully,” I replied, and he gave me a peculiar look. ”Well, safe journey, and if there’s any problem you know where to find me.”

I handed over the keys to my Lambo and he gave me the keys to the plainest Jane of cars, the Chevy Impala 1967.

”Anya,” I called and it felt strange calling her that, but to my surprise, she immediately turned her head and looked at me. I motioned to her to come over. She hurried over, and in no time, we were headed back to my safety deposit boxes in Manhattan. I came out carrying two holdalls with our new identity; passports, bank accounts, credit cards. I stuffed them into the truck. From there we went to a small hotel at the edge of the city.