Cross

20

Winter

I never thought I'll be standing on the side of the road, waving down a taxi with heels in one hand, a purse dangling from my wrist and wad of cash in a brown sack and my passport clenched tightly in the other hand.

I have to leave Mexico City. That's what he said. It's sound so simple but I heard the message behind those meaningless words loud and clear.

Run and don't let me catch you.

That's what he really said. This entire night was just game to him; he planned it and assumed I would play along. I didn't and I'm not sure if I should be proud of myself or not since someone lost a hand because of me.

I grimace at the thought of Mario's severed hand. He lost it because he touched me. I shouldn't have gone near him.

A green taxi in the form of an old VW Beetle slows next to me. I throw the door open and I don't hesitate to jump inside. If this all just a game, Roman shouldn't be far behind me.

"Please get me out of the city." I beg breathlessly. I reach into my sack of cash dumping a stack onto his lap. "Please."

Thankfully, the driver doesn't question my request even though he's staring at me like I've grown two heads. He slams on the gas pedal and we jerk onto the road going as fast as the vintage Beetle would let us.

My nervous threatens to swallow me and I can't help but look behind me every so often, afraid that Roman is coming for me. Suddenly I'm regretting playing his game. I should've just stood my ground and refused. But the offer was too good to say no to, so good that I didn't hear his threaten until I was on the curb.

If he gets me, he might really kill me.

"How far out the city?" The driver asks me.

I see his face in my peripheral vision. He's a middle aged man with a square face, black hair and a thick moustache.

"As I far as possible." I say to him.

"You don't like Mexico City?," He sighs looking visibly offending.

"It has bad memories." I admit even though I haven't really explored it. But for me it's not about the city just the person residing in it. Did the population of Mexico City know the evil that lurks among them?

I drown out the driver's arguments on why it's the best city to exist. He's very passionate so I could only offer him a nod and a smile. I'm not about to disagree with a man who's literally saving my life.

Turning to the window, I rest my head against the glass taking deep and steady breaths to calm my heart. I wish this Beetle could shoot down the road like Roman's expensive cars. If we keep travelling at this speed, he might meet us at the border.

The thought only spikes my anxiety.

"Don't worry," the driver speaks again. I see those brown eyes softening before he sticks out his thumb in hopes to cheer me up. "We're not far from the border now."

His words calms my nerves and I couldn't help the smile.

I roll down the window letting the night breeze brush in. My heart swells, doubling in size at the feeling of the wind brush against my skin, sweeping back my hair. I take a deep breath, inhaling a mouthful of air and embracing my newfound freedom.

Until, I see an SUV trailing behind us. Has it been trailing us this entire time? I've never noticed but we are on the highway and there's other cars on the road too. It's just paranoia.

Just to be sure, I ask the driver, "Can you take the next exit?" He nods and turns on the blinker. I give it five minutes before I crane my head to peer out the window, the seatbelt cutting into my arm.