Mors

Chap 12

The bus ride to Oakhaven felt like a slow descent into a different reality. By the time the driver grunted the name of the stop at four in the morning, the glittering skyline of my old life was nothing more than a fever dream. I stepped off the rusted metal stairs and onto a cracked asphalt lot that smelled of damp pine and woodsmoke.

The rain had tapered off into a biting, bone-deep mist.

Oakhaven wasn't much more than a collection of weathered buildings clinging to a mountainside, far removed from the neon pulse of the city. My backpack felt heavier than ever, the wrapped gold and gemstones inside pressing against my spine like a secret I could never tell. I pulled my hood lower, my eyes scanning the empty street for shadows that didn’t belong.

Every rustle of a windblown leaf made my heart stutter.

I started walking, my sneakers squeaking on the wet pavement. I needed a place to hide, somewhere anonymous and forgotten. I bypassed the only motel on the main strip; the flickering neon sign was too bright, too visible. Instead, I followed a gravel path toward the edge of town until I saw a faded "Room for Rent" sign hanging lopsided in the window of a Victorian house that had seen better centuries.

The woman who answered the door was wrapped in a moth-eaten cardigan, her eyes cloudy with sleep and suspicion. I didn't give her my name. I just held out a gold necklace I had unwrapped in the bus bathroom, a delicate thing with a small diamond chip.

"I lost my purse," I lied, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. "I need a room for a week. No questions. This is worth more than the rent."

She bit the gold, a primitive gesture that made my skin crawl, and then stepped aside to let me in. The room was small, smelling of lavender and old paper, but it had a heavy bolt on the door. As I sat on the edge of the saggy mattress, clutching my bag, I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since the basement. I had done it. I had reported him. I had run. Augustino was behind bars, and I was in a town he’d never heard of. For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of something resembling hope.

I was safe. The law had him. He couldn't touch me here.

~•~

Third Person's POV.

While Eve sat in her quiet room believing the world had shifted on its axis, the reality back in the city was far more calculated.

The police station was a hive of activity, but the atmosphere changed the moment the black SUV pulled up to the curb. There were no sirens, no tactical teams, and certainly no handcuffs. Augustino Costa stepped out of the vehicle, smoothing the lapels of his charcoal suit. He didn't look like a man under arrest; he looked like a man arriving for a board meeting.

The officers in the lobby, the same ones who had watched Eve flee in a panic only hours before, suddenly found very important things to look at on their desks. None of them moved to intercept him. None of them reached for their holsters.

Augustino walked through the swinging gates of the restricted area with the casual stride of someone who owned the floorboards beneath his feet.

He reached the heavy frosted glass door of the Chief Commissioner’s office and didn't bother to knock. He walked in, closing the door behind him with a soft, final click.

Chief Commissioner Halloway, a man who had spent thirty years cultivating an image of iron-jawed justice, didn't look up from his desk. His hands were shaking, just enough to make the ice in his glass of bourbon clink against the side.

"Augustino," Halloway muttered, finally meeting the Don's gaze. "The FBI... they were the ones who triggered the raid. We had to cooperate. It was a federal sweep. If we hadn't moved, it would have looked…"

"I am not interested in the FBI's performance art, Arthur," Augustino interrupted. He didn't sit in the guest chair. He walked to the window, looking out over the city as if he were inspecting a private garden. "The feds are a temporary nuisance. My lawyers are already picking apart their 'witness' testimony before the ink is even dry on the report."

He turned slowly, his eyes pinning Halloway to his leather chair. The power in the room shifted instantly, the air growing heavy and cold.

"What I am interested in," Augustino continued, his voice dropping to a low, lethal hum, "is how a girl with no training, no resources, and no friends managed to walk out of your 'secure' precinct through a fire exit. Under your watch."

Halloway swallowed hard, the sweat glistening on his forehead. "She panicked. The alarm went off, and by the time my men reached the alley…"

"She didn't panic," Augustino snapped, the sudden sharpness in his voice like the crack of a whip. "She moved with a purpose I didn't think she possessed. She defied me. And by extension, she humiliated you."

Augustino walked toward the desk, leaning down until his face was inches from the Commissioner’s. He placed a hand on the mahogany surface, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat.

"You have been on my payroll since you were a beat cop taking envelopes in the back of a deli," Augustino whispered. "I put that star on your chest. I paid for your daughter’s wedding and your beach house in the Hamptons. You are the law in this city because I allow you to be."

Halloway looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

"We’re looking for her, Don Augustino. We’ve flagged her credit cards, her phone…"

"She’s not using them," Augustino said, a flicker of genuine curiosity and something darker crossing his features. "She left the phone. She’s smarter than I gave her credit for. She’s gone off the grid."

He straightened up, adjusting his silk tie in the reflection of the Commissioner’s framed degrees. "I want every camera in a fifty-mile radius checked. I want the bus manifests, the private charters, the hitchhiker reports. I want to know the color of the dirt on her shoes."

"And when we find her?" Halloway asked, his voice trembling. "She’s a primary witness. The FBI is still looking…"

Augustino paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder. A cold, thin smile touched his lips, the look of a cat that had just realized the mouse was much more entertaining than he had originally thought.

"When you find her, you don't touch her. You call me. I told her she wouldn't like the version of me that had to come looking. I intend to keep my word."

He stepped out of the office, walking past the rows of silent, bowing officers. He wasn't behind bars. He wasn't even hiding. He was the king of the city, and Everly had just given him the one thing he hadn't felt in years: a challenge.

As he got back into his SUV, Augustino looked at the digital map of the state. He knows people. He knew she would go somewhere quiet, somewhere she thought was safe. He knew she would think that a badge and a police station were her shield.

"Oakhaven," he murmured to himself, his intuition catching on the tiny, insignificant detail of a bus route that had left the secondary hub right after the alarm. He didn't have proof yet, but he could feel the pull of the leash.

Everly thought she was running toward freedom. She didn't realize she was just playing her part in a much longer game, and Augustino Costa never lost a game.

~•~