“Guess I’ll keep you anyway,” I murmur.
He kisses me back, hungrily, and his eyes twinkle down at me. “Let’s get the hell out of here, Red. Vamanos!”
I follow him out the door, swinging on the backpack, tucking his Remington through the shoulder straps the way I used to carry my yoga mat. Life sure changes.
We make it down the stairwell and to the ground floor with no problems, but Bane leads me through the basement exit. A security guard is playing Candy Crush Saga on his iPhone and blinks up at us.
“Dog needs a vet,” Bane explains. “Gonna drive her uptown.”
The security guard nods and waves us out. Bane maintains a steady, normal pace as we stroll around the block to where he left his Harley parked. When we get next to it, I stare at the tiny black seat.
“So…how’s this gonna work?” I ask skeptically.
“Watch and learn, babycakes.”
Still holding the dog, Bane swings a leg over the Harley and eases himself down on the seat. Once he’s balanced, he carefully turns Jenny so she is facing forward. She’s pretty much sitting on his lap, her paws carefully poised on the muscled body of the bike, his arms wrapped around her to hold the handlebars. I can’t help but laugh at the sight of them perched together on a Harley.
“I can’t decide if that’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, or the most badass thing I’ve ever seen,” I confess.
Bane nods emphatically. “It’s both.”
He turns the key in the ignition and the Harley roars to life with the signature sound of the engine, sending a thrill of excitement through my blood. Bane reaches a hand behind him to pat the few square inches left over on the seat.
“There’s room for one more!” He shouts over the engine.
“You sure? Because you and the dog look pretty cozy without me!”
Bane glowers at me playfully. “Stop being a pain in the ass and get your ass as close as possible to mine and keep it there!”
Laughing, I do.
Our errand to the famous Penn Station post office at 34th street is the work of a moment. Bane pinches my ass as I jump off the idling motorcycle. I squeak in surprise before darting up the steps to the post office, stealing a glance at Bane as he balances the bike alongside the empty early morning curb with Jenny on his lap.
I push through the rotating doors into the post office’s 24-hour lobby, my footsteps echoing off the immense pillars like a worshipper in a cathedral. I am the only soul in the beautiful building, and I feel a pang of admiration for its beauty as well as a twisting sense of goodbye. This is one of the most New York City spots, an iconic room, and it will be one of my last ports of call before leaving forever.
I find the PO Box, twist the key. Inside the box is a manila envelope containing my new identity. With trembling, excited fingers I quickly rifle through.
Rachel Kent’s fake United States passport, New York Driver’s license, and birth certificate are inside. Their details are incredible, to my untrained eye seeming completely legit. I shake my head, amused, when I notice the pretend new hometown Blair has chosen for me: Greenwich, Connecticut. Evidently she thinks I look rich. Oh, the irony.
I pull another envelope out of my pocket, this one rumpled and secret. Bane doesn’t know about it. It’s a letter, hastily scrawled, with no return address. I brush my fingertips over the name of the addressee: Rachel Clark, 5 East 125th Street Apt. 5R, New York, New York.
“Love you, sis,” I whisper to it. “I hope I see you again soon.”
The letter is brief and vague, just enough to tell her that I am alive, that I got tangled up with dangerous people but have done my best to break free. That none of them knows my real name, and so she should be safe from them as long as she doesn’t dig too deep into my disappearance. I ask her to tell Mom and Dad that I am ok. I tell her I am in with a wild, rough, and yet trustworthy man, the one who saved my life. I ask her to forgive me for not being able to see her before I go. I promise her that I will do everything I can to let her know I am ok, from time to time. I say goodbye.
It’s silly, I know, but I give the envelope a kiss before I drop it in the mailbox.
Chapter Nineteen
Clutching my new identity papers like a good-luck charm, I race down the steps to the street and back to Bane. It must be about five a.m. now, and the slow bake of a summer sunrise is beginning to flicker in the east, sending shots of electric blue and hints of orange through the deep purple night sky. It’s a breathtaking backdrop for the sight of that powerful, foxy man waiting for me. He gives me a lop-sided grin that makes heat swirl through my body. I drink in the sight of him, with the lights of the city and the white-lit outline of the Empire State Building behind.
“All good?” He says over the hum of the Harley engine.
“Yup! Thanks for my new name,” I reply.
He winks. “That’s just the start, baby. I’ll give you a newer one, soon.”
I grin and climb on behind him, heart racing. As I wrap my arms around Bane, I feel my eyes fill with emotion. Goodbye, New York. Goodbye, Old Ava. Goodbye, old life.
Hello, unknown.
Bane revs the engine and we accelerate through the empty streets, the warm morning breeze caressing our faces as we weave toward the Chelsea Piers. It’s a quiet, beautiful sight as the moored yachts sway gently in the current, glowing gold in the first glimmers of dawn. Bane drives us straight onto the dock to the very end where a charter yacht is waiting, its engines quietly humming and bubbling into the Hudson.
There’s a man with long hair and a denim shirt doing something with a rope in the back of the boat. He glances up at us and waves.
“Friends of Blair,” he shouts.
“Friends of Blair,” Bane returns.
The man points at the motorcycle. “She coming aboard?”
“Sure is!” Bane shouts.
The man’s eyes flicker, but he only shrugs. “Kill the engine and walk it on.” He points to a narrow plank balanced between the pier and the boat, and I guess that’s going to be our gangway.
“He’s kidding,” I grunt.
“Alright.” Bane says, twisting the key to shut down the ignition. “Get off.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I repeat.
Bane steps beside me, and gently lifts Jenny from her perch and hands her to me to hold. “Wait here, I’ll come back to help you both.”