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?

“You should have taken her to the doctor months ago. Pony’s grandmother, at least.”

“That’s real helpful, Frank. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t blame me, she’s your wife. You need to take care of her.”

Helene pulled the blanket closer, beginning to warm. The bed was so comfortable, even better than at the resort in California. What would it have been like, to live in this house with her aunt? She would have finished high school. She would have gone to college. She would have been loved.

Frank’s voice was low. “How do you know she’s not going to run again?”

“She won’t run. She just needs a little time to get used to things. Once the twins come, she’ll be fine. Besides, where’s she got left to go?”

“All she has to do is find one person with a phone, Roy. The cops will be all over us. I hate to say this, but we should go. Leave her here and get back on the road. It’s not like she’ll tell them anything they don’t already know.”

The curtains sighed on their rods and the room dimmed. “I’m not leaving her, Frank. I’m telling you, she’s special. She’ll come around.”

Frank sighed. “Who exactly did she think she was marrying?”

“A high-end thief. I didn’t tell her that meant sometimes we had to kill someone.”

“Well, she knows now. You doubled your body count in the last twelve hours.”

“You understand how it is, Frank. The first one’s hard. After that, it gets easier.”

“Maybe for you.”

The light went out. She heard the click of the latch as the door softly closed. She lay in the dark and realized that Frank didn’t understand. He hadn’t seen Roy kill Aunt Willa, or Jessica Moore in Utah. He didn’t know how much Roy liked it. How Roy felt when he did it, what he really was.

Or maybe Frank didn’t want to know. Because he needed Roy, or thought he did.

She examined this new fact in her mind, just as she’d examined that rusted shovel head she’d found under the weeds.

Helene was smaller than Roy, and she didn’t have his muscle.

But that didn’t mean she was powerless.

58

She must have been out for at least four hours, because when she opened her eyes, it was noon. She still hurt, but less so. A plate with a turkey sandwich sat beside the bed. She picked up the sandwich and started to chew.

Something had changed while she slept. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, but she could feel it. Like she’d gone to sleep one person and woken up another. A kind of revelation.