Read Online Chosen Prey by Cheyenne McCray - Free Book Online
Authors: Cheyenne McCray
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Romance, Contemporary, Love Stories, Ex-police officers, Women artists
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She'd have to live on ramen, macaroni and cheese, and water, but she could afford to rent an apartment until she started selling her artwork again, as long as she didn't go anyplace too expensive.
That ruled out New York City.
Inside the store, she grabbed a shopping basket and first thing headed for the aisle with the hair dye. She'd have to find everything to make her look like the fake ID she'd paid a lot for just in case she had to go on the run again. She'd need it to buy a ticket to board the bus.
Lyra rushed through the store, grabbing what she needed. It didn't take her long to choose a nice shade of red temporary hair dye and a few makeup products—she'd never been one for makeup, so that was something that had really made her look different on her ID. She found big sunglasses, a yellow tank top, and a matching pair of shorts.
She practically ran to the back of the store and picked out a pair of jogging shoes so her old ones wouldn't be recognized. She even remembered to snag a pair of scissors and some bubblegum. At the last minute she ran to the food section of the superstore and picked up a Danish for breakfast.
Groaning with disappointment, she realized she was going to have to give up her backpack. She sighed. She'd had the thing since her days on the streets—it was one of her first real possessions. And it was just perfect for all of her art tools, her cell phone, and everything else she kept.
Lyra pushed her cart to the section where the store displayed several rows of backpacks. A pink Barbie pack made her laugh as she thought about carrying that around.
Yeah, no one would guess it was her, but she didn't think she could live with a picture of a doll on a bright pink pack.
Eventually she settled on a sturdy yellow backpack that went with her new look. Why not? It would function well for what she needed.
As she paid for the items, her hands trembled, even though she doubted any of the cult members would be in the store at that moment. When she finished the transaction, she took her purchases into the ladies' restroom, brushing by one shopper and entering the largest stall. Within a few minutes she'd changed into the yellow tank top and shorts and changed her shoes. Her new backpack bulged by the time she had transferred all of her clothes into it along with her other possessions. She'd have to get rid of the shoes—she just didn't have room for those to fit. She stuffed her wad of cash and fake ID into a pocket of the pack and made sure she zipped it.
After she peed, she came out of the stall. Thankfully, the restroom was empty. She threw away her old shoes and with a sad sigh tossed away her old pack, too.
She placed her new pack and purchases on the floor and snatched the scissors out of the bag of purchases. Lyra grimaced as she carefully hacked off a good six inches of her hair so that she now sported a bob instead of having it a little over shoulder-length. Just as she tossed the hair into the garbage, a woman with two children came into the restroom and Lyra jumped. The woman was too busy with the toddlers to even notice Lyra.
Still, she chose to work on her makeup first before she would dye her hair. She applied a thick layer of foundation, a heavy dose of blush, and used blue eye shadow, black mascara, and red lipstick. One thing she'd learned was that she was probably least likely to draw the cult's attention by dressing in loud colors and wearing bright makeup, because they'd expect her to be subdued like she'd always been.
When she was finished applying the makeup, the woman came out of the large stall with her children, washed her hands and her children's without looking at Lyra. Finally the woman left with her kids and Lyra skimmed through the directions on the bottle of hair dye.
If she didn't want any stains, she'd need to protect her hands and her neck. She dragged one of her old T-shirts out of her backpack to put around her neck to keep the dye from getting on her tank top.
That ruled out New York City.
Inside the store, she grabbed a shopping basket and first thing headed for the aisle with the hair dye. She'd have to find everything to make her look like the fake ID she'd paid a lot for just in case she had to go on the run again. She'd need it to buy a ticket to board the bus.
Lyra rushed through the store, grabbing what she needed. It didn't take her long to choose a nice shade of red temporary hair dye and a few makeup products—she'd never been one for makeup, so that was something that had really made her look different on her ID. She found big sunglasses, a yellow tank top, and a matching pair of shorts.
She practically ran to the back of the store and picked out a pair of jogging shoes so her old ones wouldn't be recognized. She even remembered to snag a pair of scissors and some bubblegum. At the last minute she ran to the food section of the superstore and picked up a Danish for breakfast.
Groaning with disappointment, she realized she was going to have to give up her backpack. She sighed. She'd had the thing since her days on the streets—it was one of her first real possessions. And it was just perfect for all of her art tools, her cell phone, and everything else she kept.
Lyra pushed her cart to the section where the store displayed several rows of backpacks. A pink Barbie pack made her laugh as she thought about carrying that around.
Yeah, no one would guess it was her, but she didn't think she could live with a picture of a doll on a bright pink pack.
Eventually she settled on a sturdy yellow backpack that went with her new look. Why not? It would function well for what she needed.
As she paid for the items, her hands trembled, even though she doubted any of the cult members would be in the store at that moment. When she finished the transaction, she took her purchases into the ladies' restroom, brushing by one shopper and entering the largest stall. Within a few minutes she'd changed into the yellow tank top and shorts and changed her shoes. Her new backpack bulged by the time she had transferred all of her clothes into it along with her other possessions. She'd have to get rid of the shoes—she just didn't have room for those to fit. She stuffed her wad of cash and fake ID into a pocket of the pack and made sure she zipped it.
After she peed, she came out of the stall. Thankfully, the restroom was empty. She threw away her old shoes and with a sad sigh tossed away her old pack, too.
She placed her new pack and purchases on the floor and snatched the scissors out of the bag of purchases. Lyra grimaced as she carefully hacked off a good six inches of her hair so that she now sported a bob instead of having it a little over shoulder-length. Just as she tossed the hair into the garbage, a woman with two children came into the restroom and Lyra jumped. The woman was too busy with the toddlers to even notice Lyra.
Still, she chose to work on her makeup first before she would dye her hair. She applied a thick layer of foundation, a heavy dose of blush, and used blue eye shadow, black mascara, and red lipstick. One thing she'd learned was that she was probably least likely to draw the cult's attention by dressing in loud colors and wearing bright makeup, because they'd expect her to be subdued like she'd always been.
When she was finished applying the makeup, the woman came out of the large stall with her children, washed her hands and her children's without looking at Lyra. Finally the woman left with her kids and Lyra skimmed through the directions on the bottle of hair dye.
If she didn't want any stains, she'd need to protect her hands and her neck. She dragged one of her old T-shirts out of her backpack to put around her neck to keep the dye from getting on her tank top.
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