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 on your reading list?

In Winthrop the next morning, she found a jet-black sweater neatly folded on her seat, the material like her dad’s heavy wool work shirts but softer than anything she’d ever owned. Right there in the cold hotel parking lot, she shed the green coat and her mom’s sweatshirt, suddenly very aware of her body in the thin Walmart T-shirt and baggy jeans as she pulled the sweater over her head. All her clothes were oversized because she hadn’t liked the Gas and Grocery customers staring at her, and the black sweater was much more snug in the chest than she was used to.

Still, it fit like it had been made for her, and Roy smiled so warmly that she kept it on. All the way to Leavenworth, she’d kept brushing the soft sleeve across her cheek and glancing at him. Roy kept his eyes on the road.

Day after day, gift after gift, she kept waiting for him to do something. To put his hand on her thigh, to kiss her, to walk her to the room and start undressing her, something.

Instead, he was the perfect gentleman. He didn’t even touch her arm.

She knew he liked women. She could feel him watching her when she wasn’t looking, although she never once caught him at it.

He certainly didn’t stare at her the way other men did. Their hungry eyes wandered freely all over her body, feeding greedily as if she was theirs for the taking. As if she couldn’t see them doing it, couldn’t feel it like ants on her skin. As if she wasn’t even a damn person, just some dumb object made purely to give them pleasure.

Roy barely looked at her face. When he did, his eyes slipped away immediately, as if on their way somewhere else. Even when he gave her something nice, he only glanced at her for a moment, just long enough to confirm that she liked it.

She began to wonder what was wrong with her. Why hadn’t he done something?

He was a lot older than she was, at least seven years.

Did she want him to do something?

She didn’t know. Maybe.

—

By the time they were headed south toward Bend, Helene could no longer sit beside Roy without being acutely aware of his presence. She noticed everything about him. The faint smell of sweat when he peeled off his coat as the sun warmed the cab of the pickup. The way he bit the inside of his lip as he peered past her out the side window, maneuvering the truck and trailer into a parking spot. How he ate, even while driving, with a kind of delicacy that she had never seen in a man. He took small bites and didn’t lick his fingers. He always used a napkin.