Page 56 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

Behind me, Londyn put a hand on my back, the pressure gentle as she followed me down the hallway and into the main room. I flipped on a row of lights, scanning the place.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Londyn gasped.

“Wha—” I followed her gaze to the Cadillac’s tires.

They were slashed.

I rushed to the car, walking all around it as I inspected it from roof to wheel and bumper to fender. There wasn’t a thing wrong with it except all four tires had been cut, the rubber dangling from the rims.

“Fuck.” I raked a hand through my hair. I should have taken that key from Moira when I’d gone to her house. I’d been impatient to leave. I thought she’d done her worst and I could have Wyatt get it from her later. That mistake was on me.

“Was this—”

“Moira? Yeah,” I clipped. “I’m calling the cops.”

I dug my phone from my pocket, ready to dial the sheriff, but Londyn stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“What if it wasn’t her?”

“Who else could it be?”

She frowned. “My ex.”

“You think?”

“Well, the first time, I would have said no. But Thomas knows I’m here and he’s been trying for months to get me to listen to him. What he wants more than anything is for me to come back to Boston.”

“But wouldn’t we have seen him around town? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d lurk in corners.” Thomas was an arrogant, rich asshole. He’d driven to Summers and found Londyn immediately. He was bold, not a coward who trashed a woman’s car in secret.

“Maybe that investigator he hired did it for him? I don’t know.” Her eyes dropped to the tires and she pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I can’t believe this.”

“Me neither.” I hung my head. “It’s just tires.”

“This is crazy. Totally insane. I feel . . . violated. This is my car. My beautiful car. It doesn’t deserve this.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I pulled her into my side. “I can fix it. All I have to do is get the tires ordered. It’s past time for a Friday, but I can place the order and they’ll be here on Monday. You just might not be able to leave first thing in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” she muttered, her eyes still locked on the gashes in the rubber. “If your ex is so desperate to get rid of me, why do this? I don’t think it was her. If she had left them alone, I would have been gone already.”

My stomach tightened at the idea of having lost her a week ago. I hated the shit with her car, but I’d gotten time with Londyn we otherwise would have missed.

But it had to be her. This was so damn familiar, it made me sick. When the fuck would Moira grow up?

“She’s got to be worried that you might stay,” I said. “This is her way of trying to run you out of town.”

“Or it’s not her.” Londyn dug the phone from her purse, the one I’d given her. “This feels slimy and devious. A year ago, I wouldn’t have said that was Thomas, but it turns out I didn’t know my husband all that well. I’m going to make a call.”

“Okay.” I kissed her hair. “I’ll leave you alone and go order your tires.”

“Thanks.” Her shoulders fell as she dialed the number.

I disappeared into the office, collapsing into my chair. “Fuck.”

Why was this happening? I could hear Londyn talking, but I d

idn’t need to know what her ex was going to say. He hadn’t slashed her tires.

This had Moira written all over it.