“Lovely as you are, we had to say goodbye, step away from the high, only to hit rock bottom…”

I reach for the radio at the same time he tries to snatch it away. I slam the rugby ball in his face and grab the device. Richards stumbles back, holding his nose, hits the wall, and falls on his ass. I’m fumbling to find the off button, but accidentally turn the volume up. Way up. Now Glen’s voice is booming everywhere, soaking the walls.

Feck, feck, feck.

I hear something crash on the floor. When I look up, Rory’s standing in front of me, tears in her eyes.

I finally hit the off button, but it’s too late. She heard. Obviously. God. That muppet, Richards. He ruined everything.

She runs to the front door, swings it open, and takes off.

I track after her on instinct, not even bothering to lock the door behind me.

Some people are prone to dramatics. Not Rory. I know it has physically rattled her to hear her father’s song.

Running after her reminds me of another time—a time I didn’t make it.

Not this time. This time, I get the girl.

It’s pouring. Rory is wearing her thin PJs, and she’s barefoot and surely freezing. I can’t stand to think of her uncomfortable in any way.

She is not yours. She’s someone else’s, I remind myself.

But Shiny Boyfriend is not here. The devil on my shoulder fingers his Salvador Dali moustache.

Besides, making her yours has been the plan all along. My angel smooths his white robe, dangling his leg over my other shoulder.

Wait, isn’t my angel supposed to talk me off the destruction-of-her-relationship ledge?

My angel shrugs. If they marry, he’ll move her to a plastic, soulless suburb and cheat on her before she hits forty—with his fresh-out-of-college secretary. I’ve seen that movie. She’s not going to like the ending.

Fair point. I pick up the pace.

I’m soaking wet, the gravel sinking under my feet with a crunch. The chase is not only a chase because my legs are moving, but because my mind is racing in one direction.

Mine.

It is primal and carnal and caveman and stupid, but I never fancied myself a particularly bright person.

I knew I was going to destroy her life whether I liked it or not the moment I laid eyes on her again, when she stirred under the chandeliers in that New York ballroom like a mythical fairy.

But being more to her is another matter completely. I didn’t think I could. Now I do.

I catch up to Rory and block her way down the path to Main Street. Everything is closed, and miles away, and anyway, running from your problems is a bit like chasing them. They’re right there with you, wherever you go, no matter the pace.