BooksBarbecue
Back The Runaway
Chapters (80)
  1. Cover
  2. TITLES BY NICK PETRIE
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  79. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  80. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Dude, my car didn’t die.” Hollywood leaned in, eyes flicking down at her chest. “I put a GPS locator on it, and a kill switch on the ignition, all controlled by my phone. That’s why we came home.”

“Wait. Hollywood, this is your damn fault?”

“No,” Roy said. “It’s your fault. If you’d stayed home like you were supposed to, none of this would have happened. What if he’d hurt the twins?”

Now she let herself get mad. That was much easier than tears. She pushed him away. “What about me, Roy? What if he’d hurt me?”

“Did you tell him anything about what I do for a living?” he demanded. “About that woman in Utah?”

“No, Roy, never,” she lied. “You’re my husband.”

For the first time, his eyes softened. He believed her. He didn’t think she was trying to run. She was going to live.

“Okay, honey. I’ll take care of that guy. He won’t ever hurt anyone again. But right now, you need to go home.”

He opened Pony’s truck door for her. She climbed inside. He closed the door, then motioned Pony Boy and Hollywood closer for a quick conversation.

They dropped Hollywood at his car, which started right up. He smirked at her from the open window. Then Pony Boy drove her back to the home place without saying a single word. He’d waited at the bottom of the stairs while she changed her dress, then walked her outside and locked her in this damn cow stall.

She was afraid Roy hadn’t believed her story after all.

—

“I’m back here,” she called again, and rattled the heavy door. “Get me the hell out of here.”

38

She heard a thump and a crash, then a faint red light appeared and grew brighter as it bobbed toward her.

“There you are.” It was the guy from the river, with some kind of fancy flashlight. He wore a brown coat she hadn’t seen before. His voice was quiet but it carried in the dark of the barn.

“I put some junk in front of that door. We’ll hear them if they try to break through.” He turned the beam on the stall’s padlock. His face glowed from below as if lit by burning coals. “Let’s get you out of there.”

“What about the big doors?”

“I can’t do anything about those. I’m just glad they stopped shooting.”

Peter, she remembered, his name was Peter. She heard a dull clinking sound and realized he was flipping through the ring of keys she’d left behind. Now she felt bad that she’d set Roy on him.

“You really came for me.”

“Told you I would.” He was focused on the lock.

She cleared her throat. “Why?”