She locked the doors, and tears blurred her vision as she cranked the engine. He was at her window in seconds, pounding his fist on the glass. “Damn it, Carrie! Get out of the car!”

She tried to ignore his presence, his feral growl as he shouted at her. With trembling hands, she shifted the transmission to Reverse. Twisted to look behind her as she backed out of the lot.

A loud thump and sound of glass cracking drew a startled gasp from her. She spun to see what he’d done. Her windshield had a spiderweb break and a long fissure snaking across the driver’s side. He held a rock, his arm raised, ready to smash it against her window again.

Carrie stomped the gas pedal. The car rocketed backward. The rock he held slammed down on her hood, leaving a dent, then tumbled to the ground. Joseph made a grab for the door handle as she wheeled a hasty Y-turn and raced out of the side parking lot.

A car horn blasted as she cut into traffic and sped away, and from the motel parking lot, she could hear him scream, “Give up, Carrie! I will always find you!”

Carrie shuddered. Five years ago, that promise might have sounded like a romantic movie line. Now, after sixty months of watching everything she’d believed about the man she’d married melt away, she knew the shouted vow for what it was. A threat.

And all the reason she needed to keep running. Keep hiding. Because if Joseph ever caught her, she knew he would kill her.

Hours later, when she felt certain she’d escaped Joseph, Carrie stopped at a fast food restaurant in a tiny Oklahoma town and released a shuddering breath. Once she’d thought she could flee her abusive and manipulative husband simply by leaving him, filing for divorce and getting on with her life. Now she knew Joseph was a bad dream that would keep returning, no matter the lengths she went to. Desolation sat on her chest, suffocating her. What hope she’d had for a fresh start had eroded, little by little, each time he’d caught up with her.

She smacked her hand on the steering wheel, bitter tears stinging her eyes. How in the hell did he keep finding her? She didn’t use credit cards. She changed burner phones every time he found her. She didn’t use her real name when she paid cash and checked into motels at night. She’d driven hundreds of miles, randomly picking small towns or thriving cities to stop. She’d dyed her hair so many times, all the conditioner in the world would never rescue it from the brittleness and split ends. She glanced in the rearview mirror, reminding herself what color she’d last used. That’s right...a boring shade of light brown.