Chapter 4 - The Alley Chase
I didn't take the main streets back. I ducked out the emergency exit of the pharmacy and sprinted down an alleyway. Behind me, I heard the heavy thud of boots hitting the pavement.
“Hey! Stop!” a voice yelled.
I ran harder, my lungs burning. Four years of dodging debt collectors had taught me how to disappear in this city. I vaulted over a chain-link fence, ignoring the scrape of metal against my palms, and cut through a condemned apartment building.
I lost them, but my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs when I finally slipped through the back door of the bakery.
I rushed into the office. Gabriel was sitting up, a stolen kitchen knife gripped in his hand, his eyes deadly. When he saw it was me, he dropped the blade.
“You’re shaking,” he noted, his voice a low gravel.
“They saw me at the pharmacy,” I panted, mixing the baby formula with trembling hands. “I lost them, but we don't have much time. They’ll sweep this block again.”
I handed him the bottle, and for the first time, I saw the monster of the Chicago underworld look like a vulnerable father. He fed his son with an incredible gentleness.
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“You saved us, Clara,” he said quietly, his eyes lifting to mine. “I don't forget debts.”
“Just take the pills, Moretti,” I said, handing him the antibiotics. But as our fingers brushed, a jolt of electricity shot up my arm. He felt it too. The air in the tiny office suddenly grew very thick.
