Page 10 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

My eyes flew open, my hands snapped to the wheel. “Shit.”

I yanked the wheel to get the car to my side of the road. I overcorrected. The Cadillac, the beast that she was, swayed and lurched again as the tires on the passenger side shook on the rumble strip.

Pop.

The right front corner of the car dropped. The Cadillac jerked to the side and I didn’t have the strength to hold the wheel.

I hit the brake, too hard. Damn it! I was panicking and losing control. The thwap of my flat tire filled the air right before the screech of metal on metal. A guardrail was kind enough to stop me from dropping into a ditch.

The Cadillac came to a grinding stop. Dust billowed until the night breeze blew it away.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. I was alive—if my heart didn’t explode. My hands were fisted on the wheel, frozen, but the rest of my body was shaking. I couldn’t seem to loosen my grip, so I left my hands white knuckled and let my head fall forward.

I closed my eyes, letting the adrenaline settle. When the shaking eased and my head stopped spinning, I let go of the steering wheel and pushed out of the car on unsteady legs.

With one hand on the car for balance, I made my way around the trunk to the other side.

“Shit.” The Cadillac was smashed against the guardrail. There were streaks of red paint from where I’d dragged alongside it.

I hurried around the car again, this time to inspect the front. The tire was flat and the rim rested on the asphalt.

“No.” I ran a hand through my hair. I must have hit a nail. The night was getting darker by the second, and though I could change a tire in the daylight, doing it at night was not a challenge I wanted to take on.

“This is why we have phones.” I slammed my palm into my forehead. I should have bought a flip phone for emergencies. “Damn it.”

And there wasn’t a car in sight. I’d gotten my wish for a deserted road. How long had it been since I’d passed a town? I’d driven through a small town earlier but it had still been bright outside. It was at least an hour’s drive behind me.

“Ahh!” I screamed to the sky. Not even the birds seemed to care. Which meant if I was kidnapped and murdered along this road, no one would be around to hear those screams either. “Fucking hell.”

I stomped to the driver’s seat and got in to put the convertible’s top up. When it was secure, I collected my purse, slammed the door and popped the locks. Then I went to the trunk, digging into my suitcase for a pair of tennis shoes to trade out for my flip-flops.

“I should have stayed in Pennsylvania,” I muttered as I set off down the road. I was hoping that another town or a house would appear if I kept on the path forward. There wasn’t much behind me.

The farther I walked from the car, the further my stomach sank. That car was my safety blanket. Even in Boston, when it had been tucked away in the garage, I’d always known it was there, protected and safe.

Now it was on the highway, alone and vulnerable.

So was I.

I stole glances over my shoulder until it disappeared from my sight and I began counting steps to occupy my mind. When I got to five hundred, I was nervous. When I got to a thousand, I was so freaked out by the impending darkness, I stopped walking.

There was no sign of a town close. If there were homes nearby, they were hidden in the trees.

“This is crazy.” I spun on a heel and ran to my car. I was sweating and out of breath when it came into view.

I ran faster.

When I reached the door, darkness had nearly descended and I could hardly make out the handle. If I had walked another five hundred steps, I wouldn’t have made it back before nightfall.

I collapsed into the driver’s seat, locking myself inside as my heart pounded.

What had I been thinking? Why would I leave this car? I’d sleep here tonight and flag down a passing car tomorrow. Because I wasn’t leaving this car again. The only time we’d part ways was when I handed the keys to Karson in California.

If he was even in California. I’d find out when I got there.

The air was thick and humid outside my window. Sweat ran down my cleavage and soaked the hair around my temples and forehead. I turned on the car, cranking up the AC until I wasn’t dripping. Then I cracked the windows and shut it off, pushing my seat back as far as it would go to stretch out my legs.

Sleeping in the Cadillac was more comfortable in the backseat, something I knew from years of practice, but sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight no matter where I rested. And from here, I could see outside better and hop out quickly if a car approached.