Page 68 of Corrupted Bride

That’s what he wants, right?

I move without thinking. Clothes in a bag. Comfortable shoes, jeans, sweatshirt, jacket. I’ve been planning this without realizing it since the day I arrived. I sling the duffel over my shoulder and stare at myself in the mirror.

Was I always waiting for the chance to run?

Don’t look back.

I hurry from the room. I concentrate on the plan I made what feels like another lifetime ago. Live in my car, pay everything in cash, take odd jobs to earn a living. Survive for as long as I can off-grid until my family forgets all about me.

Then start over.

And don’t look back.

The Element is exactly what I expected. Black, unassuming, with plenty of trunk space. The sun’s beginning to rise over the ranch. Mist rolls across the fields and down the hills. It’ll burn away soon.

I get behind the wheel and start the engine.

The guards won’t stop me this time. I doubt they’re even watching. Bass is thorough like that. He takes care of me. Always anticipates what I need. The car rolls forward, heading toward the main road. The dream from last night is a nasty echo in my head. It’s a reminder of something I’m missing. I feel like I can’t form sentences fully. What am I forgetting?

I pull out and keep going. Don’t look back.

It’s like walking through a fog. I feel my family at my back screaming at me. Ruben’s cruel comments. Danny’s cracked ribs and his bloody face. My arm throbs. I drive and I don’t look back until the sun breaks across the tree line.

And I start to think.

First, there’s Cruz. Can I really leave him behind? Even with Bass’s promise to watch over my little brother?

Cruz isn’t Bass’s responsibility.

I fully believe Bass will do whatever he can to make sure Cruz is safe, but without me around, it makes no sense for Cruz to live at the ranch.

My brother’s fifteen years old.

Aren’t my parents going to say something eventually?

A few weeks is one thing—but that situation can’t last forever. Even with my mother’s lack of interest and my father’s head elsewhere, sooner or later they’ll bring Cruz home, and then what?

Without me there, he won’t be safe.

And the shooting makes no sense. I keep coming back to the moment leading up to it. Bass seemed hesitant and he couldn’t find our car. How did the truck know we were leaving? Whoever sent those shooters must’ve been following us from the start, or else they somehow got wind of where we’d be.

Was there someone watching at the door?

I slow the car, slower and slower, until I pull over on the side of a long dusty two-lane highway. Morning commuters whizz past.

I can’t look back. This is what I’ve always wanted, isn’t it?

But it’s all wrong.

Cruz needs me. And as much as Bass pretends otherwise, he needs me too.

I know this is my chance. There’s a voice screaming how I can’t give this up. If I don’t go now, it might never happen. Five years is forever, and who knows what I’ll want in the future? Who knows what I’ll be?

I put the car into gear, wait for a gap in traffic, and pull out. I take the first exit, circle around, and spiral slowly as the morning light brightens, and I can see clearly.

It takes me twenty minutes to reach my parents’ house. I park a few doors down and walk over, hands shoved in my pockets, slinking in through the back door. It’s quiet in the morning. Dad’s probably in his study. Mom’s either in bed or out for a walk. I smell coffee and hear voices, which makes me pause. They drift in from the garage.

I head to the door leading off the kitchen and listen.