Rose:

“Lacey, are you okay?”

I look over at her. We are in a taxi driving away, to the one other place that can make my stomach feel like a Laffy taffy machine. My foot feels like it’s on fire. We bolted from the property. I had the general plan, but it’s Lacey who got us off grounds. She has a natural gift for hacking security systems and locks.

Looking over at Lacey, I realize how sad and guarded she looks. She looks scared and unsure. I hope she didn’t just leave for me.

“I'm fine.”

She gives her best attempt at a fake smile, but it’s clearly not genuine.

“Lacey, do you want to go back? It hasn’t been long. I know the Boss will take you back and nothing will happen. He’ll probably be happy you came back.”

“No. I have to leave. My brain’s just a little… confused right now.”

“I understand. I really, really do.” My gut tells me to change the subject, so I do. “Lacey, how did you get money? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I'm so glad you have it, but, um, not to be insensitive, but how did you get it? You’ve been kinda…”

Her bitter laugh cuts me off. “It’s obviously not mine. I stole it from Ad… Boss. I know where he kept an extra stash. He always keeps a spare couple grand there. A ton for us. Nothing for him. He’ll live.”’

My eyes bug out. “You stole that from the Boss!”

She lets out a sad smile. “It’ll be fine.”

“Fine! This plan isn’t guaranteed to work. What if they catch us? He’ll be so mad. He’ll hurt you again. You stole from the Boss of the fucking Mafia Lacey!”

I see the driver give us a ‘what the fuck’ look, but I can’t pay him any mind in my current state of total fucking panic. My foot throbs reminding me the smallest bit of what he’s capable of.

“He won’t hurt me anymore. It will be fine Rose. Trust me.”

“You really think he wouldn’t hurt you anymore? Even if he got mad.”

“I don’t think so, but I mean,” her mouth pinches tight and she pulls at the sleeve of her sweatshirt, “you never really know with the Boss. I think he’s done hurting me though. I really do.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back?”

“Rose. Seriously. Please stop asking me that. Sven’s never purposely hurt you, yet you are still leaving. I need to leave. It’s just… hard. It’s for the best. We’ll never be safe there. Their positions will always come first, and we’ll always be in danger. He’ll always hurt other people. I won’t stand by that. Ever. I’ve been there. I am there. I'm leaving. So stop making it harder.”

I shut up. She’s right. Sometimes worry makes me ask stupid things. I just can’t imagine the horrors she’s been through, and I really hope I'm doing the right thing for her.

No. What am I saying? I know I am. They are Mafia men. The Boss hurt her. Several times. I shake my head as pull up to the building I have only been to once before. My blood turns to ice in my veins. I freeze.

“Rose? Rose? Hey…” Lacey whispers softly, taking my hands in hers. “Survival remember? Just survival. You got this. You’ve been shot. This is nothing right?”

I feel her shoulder nudge me in a teasing little bump. How she is so helpful and supportive when she is clearly breaking apart at the seams is beyond me?

“Right. Nothing.”

She laces her fingers through mine and gently pulls me out of the taxi. She pays the cabi with her ever so ballsy stolen money.

“Come on,” she encourages when I dig my feet into the dirt.

“I think I’d rather…”

“No. Don’t even finish that sentence. You’re scared. I understand. But we need to do this.”

When we reach the doors my body breaks out in full on tremors. I can’t communicate at all. Lacey goes to the front desk and handles everything for me. We wait in the waiting area for an eternity. Lacey doesn’t say anything, but she gently squeezes my leg once in a while trying to encourage me.

“Rose Bellemore. Lacey Kincaid.”

“Kincaid?” I ask with a trembling voice.

It’s the first thing I’ve said since we arrived, but that name doesn’t seem to fit her.

“Fake,” she mumbles.

How she pulled that off here I don’t even know, but I’ve stopped questioning her. I’ve come to realize she’s a hidden genius.

Lacey pulls me to my feet. My heart is hammering like a rocket in my chest, and my eyes are pulsing.

Beat. Thump. Beat. Thump. Beat. Beat. Beat. One foot in front of the other. One at a time.

We are pulled into a tiny room. All the air leaves my lungs. A man in an orange suit, with thinning grey hair and tired eyes, stands with a gasp.

“It can’t be,” he says in a breath. “My precious flower? Is that really you?... Rose.”

“Hi daddy.”

Part two coming very soon ;) Don’t hate me!