Page 69 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

I forced my feet through the bedroom door. I held my neck stiff, not letting myself twist and look back.

Wyatt was in the living room, standing beside the couch with his phone in his hands and his thumbs flying. I walked into his space and wrapped him up, trapping his arms at his sides. “Take care of him.”

His stiff frame relaxed. “I will.”

“It was nice meeting you.” I let him go, unable to meet his eyes. Then I was out the door, jogging to the motel.

When I was locked inside my room, I leaned against the door, taking a moment for my heart to settle. I swiped away one tear and gritted my teeth to stop the others.

One goodbye down.

One more to go.

Chapter Fourteen

Londyn

“Thanks for everything, Meggie.” I tucked my credit card into my wallet, then stowed it in my purse.

“You’re welcome.” She leaned her elbows on the counter. “He didn’t talk you into staying, huh?”

“No.” I gave her a sad smile. “Have a great summer.”

“You too.” She sighed, then waved as I wheeled my suitcases to the door.

It was hot outside and I’d much rather wait in the air conditioning for Brooks to show with my car, but Meggie was itching for some gossip. I didn’t have it in me to deflect her questions about my relationship with Brooks, not when all my energy was being used to fight the anxiety of the upcoming goodbye.

I pulled my luggage down the sidewalk to the corner of the motel, leaving it standing on the concrete while I took one last look at Brooks’s house.

When I’d run away from home, I hadn’t looked back at the trailer where I’d grown up. No matter how many years went by, that pile of filth was burned into my brain. The details lingered with perfect clarity.

My parents had been passed out in their bedroom that day, the same place they’d been for the three days prior. They did that, holed themselves up as they rode out their high. I used to peek in on them occasionally. Sometimes, I’d stand at the door and listen for any sound. The doors were so thin, if I listened close enough, I could hear them breathe.

It had taken me months to work up the courage to run. For nearly a year, I’d had a backpack stuffed with clothes and canned food. The final straw had been on the third day of a drug-induced disappearance. Mom and Dad had stayed quiet, too quiet, in their end of the trailer. No sound had even come from the TV. I’d gone to see if they were alive. When I’d cracked the door, Dad had been sitting up in bed, a rubber band tied tight around his bicep and a syringe poised at a vein. Mom had been asleep or passed out on her stomach at his side. Her nightstand had been crowded with half-empty bottles of brown liquor.

Dad’s eyes had been glassy when they’d met mine. He’d stared at me for a long minute, tilting his head to the side. Was it regret I’d seen in his gaze that day? Or confusion? I’d never know. For a moment, I’d thought maybe he’d put the needle down. Instead, he’d muttered, “Shut the door, Londyn.”

I’d shut the door. Then I’d gone to my room and collected my backpack.

Running had seemed like the best choice. No home at all was better than waiting around in a dirty trailer to open that door again, only to find the pair of them dead.

When would the image of that place fade? If I stared at Brooks’s house long enough, would it become permanently ingrained too?

His home was so clean. The white siding was pristine. There was no cracking paint or water stains. The windows gleamed in the sunlight, and at the right angle, it was almost as if the glass didn’t exist.

I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing the house in my head. When I opened them, a car coming down the street caught my eye.

My car.

Brooks rode handsomely behind the wheel. He was not going to make this easy on me, was he? The top was down and his eyes were covered with a pair of sunglasses. He drove with one hand while the other raked the hair away that had blown onto his forehead.

I didn’t need to close my eyes to commit that image to memory for good.

Brooks pulled up to the curb and shut off the rumbling engine. “Well, it’s about two weeks too late, but I can finally give you back your car.”

I smiled, walking over to the Cadillac. I dropped my purse in the passenger seat just as Brooks popped the trunk. I turned for my suitcases, but he stopped me.