Free Claim Me by Anna Zaires Page B

dark wig for a red one I brought with me for this purpose. I’ve also changed my jeans for a long-sleeved gray dress, and the high-heeled boots for flat booties—the most comfortable option “Elena” had in her carry-on bag.
    Obenko’s next destination appears to be another office building downtown. He stays there for a couple of hours before heading back to the safe house. I follow him again, feeling increasingly discouraged.
    This is clearly not the way to find my brother.
    My phone is beginning to run low on batteries, so I go to another coffee shop to charge it while Obenko is at the safe house. I also get online and buy a plane ticket to Berlin for the next morning to replace the one that has gone unused today.
    It’s time to admit defeat and disappear for good.
    Sighing, I order myself another tea and drink it as I read the news on my phone. Obenko seems to be settled in for the night, his dot sitting firmly in the safe house every time I check the app. Finishing my tea, I get up, deciding to go to a hotel and get some rest before the long journey tomorrow. Just as I step outside, however, my phone beeps in my bag, signifying movement on the app.
    My heart leaps. Fishing out the phone, I glance at the screen and see that Obenko’s dot is going north—possibly out of the city.
    This could be it.
    Instantly energized, I jump into a cab and follow Obenko. I know there’s a 99.9 percent chance this has nothing to do with my brother, but I can’t help the irrational hope that grips me as I watch Obenko’s dot heading farther north.
    “Are you sure you know where you’re going, young lady?” the cab driver says when we’re out of the city. “You said you were going to get directions from your boyfriend.”
    “Yes, he’s texting me as we speak,” I assure him. “It’s not much farther.”
    I’m lying through my teeth—I have no idea how far we’re going—but I’m hoping it’s not far. With all my cab rides, I’m running low on cash, and I’ll need whatever I still have to get to the airport tomorrow morning.
    “Fine,” the driver mutters. “But you better tell me soon, else I’m dropping you off at the nearest bus stop.”
    “Just another fifteen minutes,” I say, seeing the dot turn left and stop a half-kilometer later. “Turn left at the next intersection.”
    The driver shoots me a dirty look in the rearview mirror but does as I ask. The road we end up on is dark and full of potholes, and I hear him curse as he swerves to avoid a hole wide enough to swallow our whole car.
    “Stop here,” I tell him when the tracker app says we’re two hundred meters away. Exiting the car, I approach the driver’s window and hand him a stack of bills, saying, “Here’s half of what I owe you. Please wait for me, and I’ll give you the rest when you bring me back to the city.”
    “What?” He glares at me. “Fuck, no. Give me the full amount, bitch.”
    I ignore him, turning to walk away, but he leaps out of the car and grabs my arm. Instinctively, I whirl around, my fist catching the underside of his chin as my knee hits him in the balls. He collapses to the ground, wheezing and clutching at his groin, and I bring my foot down on his temple, knocking him out.
    I feel awful hurting this civilian, but I can’t let him drive off in this cab. If he leaves, I’ll have no way of getting back to the city and I’ll miss my flight tomorrow morning.
    Pushing aside my guilt, I check the driver’s pulse to verify that he’s alive, grab the keys from the car in case he wakes up, and then head toward the blinking red dot on my phone map.
    A couple of minutes later, I come across what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Disappointed, I stare at it, debating whether I should even approach. Whatever Obenko is doing here is unlikely to involve my brother’s adoptive parents; my boss wouldn’t ask his sister to meet him in the middle of nowhere just to give her some documents. It’s far more probable that