Max escaped in a panic, believing he had gotten away. He didn't immediately head to the airport because he knew Matteo's men may be watching the major roads.
Instead, he went to an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city that he had once used as a temporary hideout.
His whole body throbbed with every movement, the pain becoming sharper with each step he took. Blood had soaked through his shirt.
He kept checking behind, afraid someone would follow him. But there was nothing.
No headlights followed him. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was hunting him.
He limped into the warehouse.
Inside was dark and smelled of dust, rust, and damp concrete. Moonlight slipped through the broken windows, casting pale strips of light across the floor.
