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?

As if on cue, the little walkie-talkie came to life with a crackly voice. “Okay here. Everybody ready?”

Roy checked his watch and raised the radio to his mouth. “We’re ready. Pull it.” He slipped the radio into his jacket pocket. “Hollywood, you’re up.”

The skinny guy hopped out of the gray truck with a black toolbag slung over one shoulder. He slipped around the stone pillar and bent down behind the gate, his gloved hands already moving. Frank slid into the now-empty driver’s seat.

Roy reached into the center console again, this time for a pair of ski masks and thin blue gloves. He handed her a mask. “Put this on. Make sure you tuck all your hair up inside. You don’t want to leave anything behind.”

She tied her hair in a knot on the back of her head, then worked the mask down to her neck. It was too big for her and didn’t fit right, the fabric covering her nose and most of her mouth so that her breath stayed inside, warm and damp. Roy reached over and tugged at the top and sides, getting the holes lined up with her face. She was having trouble catching her breath. She was about to rob a house. She would be a criminal. She could go to jail.

Somehow, Roy knew what she was thinking. “You sure you’re up for this? You can always walk away. Just open your door and go.”

She swallowed hard. “No. I’m ready. Besides, we’re married now, right?”

“Atta girl.” He pulled down his own mask. It had a grinning white skull printed on the front of it. His eyes stared out of the empty sockets.

Behind the stone pillar, Hollywood stood up and pulled the gate out of the way. Roy put the truck into gear and hit the gas. “Put those gloves on. It’s time to make some money, honey.”

23

The house was a comforting arrangement of sand-colored stone and pale wood under a roof that had the exact same angle as the distant mountains. It was also smaller than Helene had expected, until she realized how much house continued past the crest of the hill to hang out over empty space. As if it didn’t have to obey the same laws of gravity as the rest of the world.

A wide-bodied guy in jeans and a black T-shirt stepped out of the bushes at the far edge of the building. He waved them forward, then disappeared around the corner. Hollywood spilled out of the gray truck and followed him at a run. Frank jogged to the front porch and knelt by the door. All three men wore ski masks and gloves.

Helene’s stomach fluttered. “Where are they going?”