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?

He gave her the good smile. Suddenly she was flooded with his warmth, just like the night when she’d first met him at the Gas and Grocery. It was as if he could see deep inside, all her fears and weakness and stupidity, everything she lacked, and he liked her anyway. She hadn’t known how much she needed that. How much she needed him.

She knew what her mom would have said. Fortune favors the bold! She cleared her throat. “Um. Roy?”

He had his key card in the lock now. He turned the handle and the door swung open. He looked back at her. “What, honey?”

She didn’t care what he and Frank did for work in the middle of the night. She didn’t care about the different names on the side of the trailer or the fact that she knew almost nothing about him. She didn’t care about anything. She wanted to trust him. Maybe she loved him. She didn’t have anyone else. This was it.

Her mouth was dry. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to thank you for how kind you’ve been to me.”

“Aw, you don’t have to thank me,” he said. “You needed a hand, that’s all. I’m happy to help.”

His eyes were bottomless. A faint smile played on his lips. She’d never really noticed his mouth before. She stepped closer to him. “Are you going to make me say it?”

Something changed in his eyes, a flickering shadow rising from the depths. His smile became wide and knowing. “Oh, yeah.”

She realized now that he’d been playing with her, maybe for days. Maybe he wasn’t who he seemed. It didn’t matter. She put her hand flat on his chest, feeling his heat, then brushed past him into the room. “Well, I’m not going to say anything.” She set her things on the bed and did her best to match his smile. She began to unbutton her shirt. “But I’ll do absolutely anything.”

He walked toward her, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. “Anything?”

Finally, she had his attention. “Everything.” She slipped her fingers behind his belt buckle and pulled herself closer.

By the time he was finished, she’d done more things than she’d known were possible.

He was rougher than she liked. Sometimes it hurt.

She didn’t mind.

Roy was hers now.

She was safe.

18

PETER

NOW

As Peter worked his way east toward the bridge, wet boots squelching with every step, he saw the spotlight’s bright, interrogating finger behind him, again and again. Ahead of him, he saw another.

The lights probed farmyards, investigated the lines of trees and brush between fields, and searched across the stubble. More than once, he had to drop down in the dirt with his head turned away so his face didn’t reflect the glare. Waiting while the wind blew through his still-damp clothes and the cold leached up through the soil.