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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Romance/Love · #2203970
Chapter 1 of my romantic suspense Flight and Fight - book 2 of my Kiwi Falls Trilogy
May
Wednesday 14th May 1.00am, Auckland
Vanessa held a small white ball of fluff, a gentle hand around Dog's muzzle signaled silence. Crouched around him, his soft fur tickled her nose, and she shifted the angle of her head to peek through the small hole and view her apartment being ransacked. How many times had Dog saved her?
No attempt to conceal their actions. Curtains open, lights on, one man swept the courtyard and took up a post at the back door.
Her heart thundered louder than the pelting rain that finally eased up.
They shoved everything in one black sack.
Though she hid money elsewhere, it grew tighter. The streets would soon be home full time. This hovel had a landlord who asked no questions. That was hard to find.
Eventually, the men all filed out of the back door and flicked the lights off. Two men hung back. A flick of a lighter, a burst of flame; two red glowing circles.
"No photos?" a raspy male voice.
"No," Felix replied.
"You fucked up if we don't silence her and word gets out-"
"As long as everyone keeps their mouth shut, no one else needs to know."
Vanessa screwed her face in disgust as she watched them leave via the small alleyway between the buildings. She hated all the men who had reduced her to this, but none more than Felix; well maybe her ex, but she refused to think about him.
Muscles cramped. There would be nothing left in the apartment. Time to run another escape route.
When silence returned to the darkness, she crept out from beneath the brick seat. Time was running out, and she still hadn't found a solution.
She tugged her shirt off revealing a sports bra. The black material created a sling for the secure and camouflaged transport of Dog. He whimpered softly, but a finger to his muzzle quietened him. In the corner, she withdrew a black rope secured to the back of the downpipe.
No choice but to trust its security. It was the only way out, Felix would have the exits guarded.
"Here goes, stay still," she whispered then started scaling the two apartment buildings.
Now the gym membership paid off. Vanessa's arms burned when she reached the top of the six-story brick building. She pulled up the rope and wrapped it around her body before making her way across the roof.
Dog whined quietly. His cold nose bumped her chin.
"What are we going to do now?"
Shelters were out. Too many people might remember her. She knelt on wet concrete, small stones digging into her knees as she wrestled her little bag of supplies from where it was hidden inside a duct. After taking Dog off she drew on a long-sleeved black tee. Time to run.
Crouched low she neared the edge and risked a peek.
Rapid heartbeat, but nothing unusual. At least she had access to a fire escape. Her black gear blended with shadows. It angered her that she didn't have her jacket. Dog's warning had barely given her time to hide.
The ladder stopped six feet above the pavement. Vanessa's sneakers made a small splash when she hit the sidewalk as she landed and squatted to check for movement on the street. She wasn't dying tonight.
Once confident she remained alone, she burst into a sprint. Alleyways and side streets formed her prearranged exit. Auckland was a city without sleep. On the main streets, cars swished down the rain-washed roads. Convenience stores glowed with lonely attendants. Partygoers laughed. Couples enjoyed midnight rendezvous. Most oblivious to her. That was the plan, she didn't want to be even vaguely remembered.
She followed wet, dark alleys, half working neon signs. Places without cameras, but with heavy padlocks and barred windows. Passed people who didn't want to be noticed. The drunk and homeless. Drug dealers and crooks. By the time she reached her preset destination, it was a little after three a.m, a train would be along soon.
"Don't worry, we'll survive."
Dog merely wagged his tail and licked her face. When the train arrived, one lonely traveler climbed aboard, and she slipped up the back carriage and held on. Dogs were not allowed on the trains, and she stank from the dirty puddles she splashed through in her run.
They rumbled along. In Auckland's CBD, she considered safety in numbers. Yet it had taken only a week to find her. The dairy job might have been the exposing factor. Now I won't even get what I earned.
At Old Papatoetoe, she dismounted and slipped into the shadows while a lone passenger walked away from the station. Once clear, she moved toward the row of shops. She wandered along the back of the building; a large mechanics shed rose beside her.
The smell of grease and oil made eyes well. I miss you Dad, everything was okay until- A sob ended her thoughts. While he gave her the skills, once gone, the battle to prove herself had begun; and failed. She hugged Dog. The curly fur hid the tears she couldn't control.
Drawn into the mechanic's yard seeking comfort from the familiar scents she ran her hand over rough, rusty mechanical parts. A tossed aside magazine turned out to be an engineering one rather than the usual porn, she decided to take it. Something to read. Distraction.
She crossed to a park and tucked herself into a shrubby corner. Backed by a six-foot corrugated sheet metal fence, painted and peeling with small rust holes. We've slept in worse. The spot kept her back safe while the bark would help insulate her from the ground.
Turning on a penlight torch, she freed Dog. Brushed mud from the magazine. Was her extensive and well-kept collection still hidden in her old family home?
Vanessa skimmed the jobs, dozens she was qualified, or overqualified to do and yet none she could apply for. Unable to mention her real name, she held no references, qualification or license. If Felix located her, well it wouldn't be good for her health.
Her thumb brushed across an advert. She wanted to pilot helicopters again. It was a physical pain in her chest. Alongside her grief. What she would be worth if she had a cock. Shithead males.
Money was short, but she would do anything to fly again. To leave everything behind.
***
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