Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,7

I don’t do it? I could be giving up the only opportunity in my life to get away.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t call anyone,” he says. “Nobody can know that this is going on. It will put them in danger, and I’m sure that is the first place your husband will go. So the less they know, the better. It’s going to be hard, but this, as you have explained, is life or death. You need to go now and start over. I will always know where you are.”

“He knows I’m here; my phone is tracked. He will come after you. I’m sure if you look out the front, there’s someone parked out there, watching me. I can’t just walk out of here like nobody is around.”

“I know you don’t know me, but please trust me. I have been doing this for fifteen years now. I know what I am doing. Don’t worry about me. This isn’t my office, and nobody knows I am here. My wife and I will follow you out and get in another car. It’s already done.” I get a small glimmer of hope, that this is what I’ve been looking for, and it calms me.

I take a deep breath as the information starts to sink in. Many different emotions overcome me, and my eyes well up with tears. A sadness settles in my gut that I won’t ever get to talk to my parents again, but understanding it’s what needs to be done to protect them. But I’m joyful that my prayers have finally been answered and I get to start over, able to live for me again. Determination to make sure I do everything correctly so I don’t jeopardize this last chance I have been given.

“Can’t I have a day to think about this? I know what I need to do, but this is all so much,” I express.

“No, you need to leave today, now. Can I be honest with you?” he asks.

“Yes, of course.”

“Sadly, if you don’t leave today and take this chance, there may not be another. You putting this off because of fear will really seal your own fate. You may not be alive to get another chance, so it’s important that you still keep fighting, pushing, and getting away. I don’t want to read about you in the news. Please, Clarissa. Let me help you.”

“Ok, I’ll go. I don’t know if I will ever be able to thank you enough for giving me my life back,” I say, completely choked up.

“Follow the plan and never go off course. Keep my men and women who are helping safe, and that will be thanks enough. Are you ready to go?” He stands up with his hands clasped in front of him, the way he acts so calm has a way of settling the nerves in me.

“I am.”

“Ok, lastly, I need you to remove your jewelry, anything you would be recognized by. Put it in this bag here.” He hands me a bag, and I have never been so happy to remove these cold pieces of metal from my finger, what was once a symbol of our love and commitment, has turned into a ball and chain I’m ready to take off.

I take off my earrings and a small chain around my neck, placing them in the bag. While zipping it closed, I think of it like I’m closing this chapter of my life, ready to start the next.

I hand him the jewelry baggie and my other belongings I brought with me. He walks over to a curtain and opens it up, revealing a back door.

“Please, follow me,” he says, leading to a parking lot, where there are two cars waiting. One is a black SUV, with a man holding the door open, and Mary sits in the other.

“This is Mark. He will be driving you, and then you will be meeting up with your point person, who will be traveling with you for the rest of the time. Here, this is yours.” He hands me the envelope that was sitting on his desk.

I nod at Mark. He’s older, like Andrew, but tall and lean, with his “I mean business” kind of look. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes, and he’s wearing slacks and a sports coat, like some secret agent. I wonder if I poke him if he will even acknowledge it. He is a nice looking man, not my cup of tea, but that’s the last thing I’m thinking about right now.

I