Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
There’s a queue inside. I don’t fall in line but go to the basin and scan the waiting women as I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face.
A teenage girl with earphones browses her phone. Behind her, a woman with a tight T-shirt and sweat staining her armpits dabs her face with a tissue. A posh-looking woman with high heels types furiously on her phone. In the corner, a cleaning lady in blue overalls sits on an overturned bucket next to a table.
A mother exits the disabled toilet with a baby on her hip and a girl in hand. The cleaning lady gets up, grabs a rag and a spray bottle of disinfectant, and enters the toilet the trio has vacated.
The girl must be about ten years old. I win some more time in front of the mirror by brushing out my hair with my fingers and going through my bag for an elastic. When I find one, I tie my hair into a ponytail. The mother is balancing the baby on the edge of the vanity while the girl is washing her hands. I sneak a look at the girl and wink.
She smiles. “You have pretty hair.”
“Thank you.” I return her smile. “So do you.”
“Hurry up, Maddie,” her mother says, wetting a paper towel and cleaning something orange on the baby’s face.
The cleaner exits and motions for the teenager to go ahead. The teenager enters the toilet and locks the door while the cleaner goes back to her table.
The girl next to me grabs a paper towel to dry her hands. “Bye.” She waves at me as she follows her mother to the door.
A wooden bowl filled with coins stands on the table. The mother goes through her bag and digs out a coin that she drops into the bowl as they leave.
I go over. “I’m so sorry,” I say to the cleaning lady, “but I have no coins on me.” Wiggling the bracelet from my wrist, I hold it to her. “Here. Take this.”
She looks up, surprised. “I can’t.”
“No, please.” I take her hand and slip the bracelet over. “It’s to make up for the tip.”
She turns her wrist from side to side, admiring the bracelet. “I suppose, if you insist.”
As long as she keeps the bracelet on, it will send out a signal of vitals and location to Wolfe. In the event that she removes it or he becomes suspicious, the worst that will happen to her when Wolfe finds her is being interrogated.
I flash her a smile and dash outside. The man is standing next to the bike, looking tense.
“I’m going to grab a bottle of water,” I say, pointing at the vending machine in front of the store. “I need to take my pills.”
He narrows one eye and follows my progress with his gaze. Blocking his view with my back, I punch in the code for the water and give it a moment before I curse and shake the machine. I throw my arms in the air and walk back.
“The machine took my money,” I say.
“Go inside and buy some at the counter.”
I lean my ass on the backseat of the bike. “That was my last twenty. I want my water and my change.”
He digs a bill from his back pocket and hands it to me.
I shake my head. “I’m not taking your money.”
Cursing under his breath, he stalks to the store.
The minute the door closes behind him, I pull on the helmet and hop onto the bike. Like most bikes these days, this one works with a starter button. The engine roars to life. My heart is pumping so wildly its echoes in my ears. I don’t look back. I’m too scared he’s right behind me, ready to put a bullet in my back.
Popping the clutch, I pull off with squealing tires. An attendant jumps out of the way as I drive upstream past the gas pumps. It’s only when I reach the highway that I dare to glance back.
The man is running across the parking lot, his arms pumping at his sides. I rev the engine and floor the gas. Ian will be looking for me. The man is probably already on his phone to tell Ian I’ve stolen his bike. At least the cops will be fooled for a while, hopefully, long enough to give me time to disappear. Once in Pretoria, I’ll find someone who can sell me a false ID. I hung out with some shady people in high school. One of the guys used to frequent a bar in Pretoria where all kinds of products were sold, ranging from prescription drugs to falsified records.
I’d have to get rid of the bike, but for now, I have time. Even if the man steals a car at the gas station, he’s not going to catch up with me, not at the speed I’m driving.