Chapter 52 The Great Escape
As she heard the gate slid open, Elena froze, her heart hammering.
She knew that sound. It was the specific, purring of Julian’s SUV pulling into the driveway.
He was home earlier than Clinton had predicted.
Panicked, she looked down at the scattered papers of Project Angel, the evidence that her entire life was a scripted lie and her husband was a manufactured military grade cyborg.
She couldn't let him find her here.
With trembling hands, Elena lunged for the floor. She grabbed the black folder and snatched up every loose sheet of paper her fingers could touch.
She didn't bother organizing them but rather shoved the crumpled documents into the front pocket of her hoodie.
She scrambled to her feet and bolted out of the study, sprinting down the hallway toward the master suite.
Her suitcase was sitting right where she had left it by the door. She grabbed the handle and hauled it toward the staircase.
The bag was heavy and it bumped violently against her legs.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the front gate slide shut.
She cursed under her breath and lifted the heavy suitcase and began to roll it down the stairs.
She almost lost her balance, her sneakers slipping on the polished edge of a step, but she gripped the railing and kept moving.
She was halfway down when she saw Clinton standing in the foyer, looking up at her in total shock.
Elena hit the bottom floor, the suitcase wobbling on its wheels. She didn't stop. She raced toward Clinton, who was holding a tray with a set of keys.
"Give me the car keys!" she yelled desperately.
Clinton blinked, his mouth falling open. "Mrs. Thorne? What are you doing? Mr. Thorne is just—"
"Give me the keys, Clinton! Now!" she screamed.
Before he could even process the demand, Elena reached out and snatched the key from him.
She didn't look back to see if Julian was coming through the front door, she turned and sprinted toward the internal door that led to the expansive underground garage.
She burst through the heavy fire door and found herself in the cool, dimly lit garage.
Rows of luxury cars sat there, some of them she hadn't even driven before. She pressed the unlock button on the fob, and the lights of the silver Bentley Continental flashed.
She threw the suitcase into the back seat, not caring that it scuffed the leather. She jumped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and punched the start button.
The engine roared to life and she shifted into reverse, backed out of the stall with a screech of tires, and slammed the car into drive.
She didn't even look at the rearview mirror. She stepped on the gas pedal, and the Bentley surged forward toward the rising garage door.
As she cleared the garage and hit the main driveway, she saw Julian’s black SUV was coming around the fountain, blocking half the path.
He must have heard the engine coming from the garage that he slammed on his brakes, the tires skidding on the wet gravel.
The driver's side door of the SUV flew open. Julian stepped out.
"ELENA!" he screamed.
She could hear him even over the roar of the Bentley’s engine. He began to run toward her car, his hand outstretched as if he could stop the vehicle by force.
Elena finched and stepped harder on the gas pedal, floor-boarding it. The Bentley fishtailed for a split second before the tires caught traction.
She raced right past him, missing his outstretched hand by inches. Through the side window, she saw his eyes wide with anger or shock, she wasn't so sure.
She didn't look back. She sped down the long, winding driveway. The iron gates were starting to close, triggered by some security protocol, but she didn't slow down.
She drove through the narrowing gap, the side mirror clipping the metal with a loud crack as she burst out onto the main road just in time before the gate slid shut.
She was out. She was away from the mansion.
Immediately, her phone, which she had tossed onto the passenger seat, began to blow up.
The screen glowed and she didn't have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.
It was Julian.
He wanted to know why she was running. He probably hadn't realized yet that she had his secret files stuffed in her hoodie. He probably thought she was just having another "breakdown" like her father said.
"I'm never going back," she whispered to the empty car. "Never."
She ignored the buzzing phone and sped down the streets of Chicago like a woman possessed, weaving through traffic and taking corners far too fast. All the while, praying the cops didn't flag her down in the process.
Her hands were shaking on the steering wheel, but her foot remained heavy on the gas.
She needed a place to go. She couldn't go to her father's estate, he had already disowned her.
She couldn't go to a hotel, Julian would track the credit cards in seconds. She needed someone outside the Vance-Thorne circle.
She picked up the phone, ignoring the three incoming calls from Julian, and scrolled through her contacts until she hit Mandy’s name.
She hit dial.
Mandy answered on the second ring. "Hello? Elena? Is everything okay? You haven't told me much about Savannah—"
"Mandy," Elena interrupted, her voice shaking. "I'm coming over to your place. Give me your address. Now."
"Hey, hey, hold up!" Mandy said, sounding startled. "What’s going on? I’m not even home right now. I’m stuck in a budget meeting at the gallery. I just stepped out for a quick lunch break."
"I don't care about your meeting!" Elena cried, swerving to avoid a slow-moving truck. "Just give me the address, Mandy! I’m homeless. I have nowhere else to go. My father kicked me out and Julian... Julian is a monster."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Elena could hear the muffled sounds of the city in the background of Mandy’s call.
"Homeless? Elena, what are you talking about? Why don't you just go back to your husband's mansion? What happened on your honeymoon?"
"I don't have a husband anymore, Mandy! I don't have a family! I’ll give you all the details when I arrive, just please, text me the address!"
"Okay, okay! Calm down," Mandy said, her voice turning urgent. "I'm texting it to you now. Look at your screen. The spare key is under the fake rock by the planter. Just get inside and stay away from the windows if you're that scared."
"Thank you," Elena said, her throat tightening.
"Elena, wait—"
Elena ended the call. A second later, the text message chirped. She glanced at the screen, saw the address on the north side, and punched it into the Bentley’s GPS.
She threw the phone back onto the passenger seat. It started ringing again immediately.
Julian wasn't giving up. He was probably tracking the car’s GPS right now. She knew she didn't have much time before he caught up to her.