Once she made a run for it, she would be alone in the world. All her big dreams had been crushed following the death of her parents. She’d become dependent on Brad, but what they had wasn’t love anymore. It was a relationship of convenience…and abuse. Brad slid the van door open, shattering her thoughts. She jumped down and her boots hit the pavement with a thud. The damp night air fueled her senses, and she breathed in deeply. She smelled her freedom, and she only had to act to gain it. He handed her a small black drawstring bag. “You know what to do?” “Cut the telephone line. Enter through the side vent,” she said, pulling the hoody over her head. He grinned. “Good girl. Do it in ten minutes, top.” Tamara nodded, and then pushed the start button on her stop watch. She tossed the bag over her shoulders, and jogged behind a building. The museum was the next block over, but if she cut across behind an adjacent storage lot, it would take her half the time to get there.
