Page 79 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

“Hey.” He stepped out and waved to Londyn. “You’re back.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, I held up a hand. “Truth, son. I expect the truth.”

That’s all I had to say. His frame crumpled. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“It was Joe’s idea.”

Fucking Joe. An idiot of a kid who, at best, had two brain cells to rub together. The kid came from absentee parents who thought restoring an old Chevy truck, complete with a monster lift kit and custom paint job, was the way to their son’s heart.

“Joe’s idea. That’s not a reason!” I roared. “You could have hurt her. You could have killed her.”

Wyatt’s face paled. “We were just trying to scare her. Joe wasn’t supposed to run her off the road, just tap her bumper a couple of times. Scare her into turning around.”

“Oh, Wyatt.” Londyn touched her hand to her heart. “It was you?”

My son’s frame sank even lower as he hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I demanded, my fury barely in check. How could my son do this to me? How could he put the woman I loved—absolutely fucking loved after only weeks—in danger like that?

“You seemed happy,” Wyatt whispered. “I saw you on the rock together. That night I delivered Thai to Meggie. I forgot her extra carton of rice, so I brought it over. You were laughing. I thought, if she stayed longer, you might . . . I don’t know.”

He thought I’d stay happy.

So he’d vandalized the garage. He’d slashed her tires. He’d done it all to get Londyn to stay.

My anger dulled from a raging boil to a hot simmer. “Son, this was not the way.”

“I know.” He hung his head. “I just . . . I was trying to help.”

Christ. I cast a glance at Londyn. She wasn’t even mad. She stared at Wyatt with a soft smile on her face. “You might have hurt her. Things could have ended much differently.”

“I told him not to hit her car. I told him over and over to back off. But he didn’t listen.” He lifted his head to Londyn. “I’m so sorry. I saw you swerve into the ditch and I’ve never been more scared. I begged Joe to go back for you, but he said the cops would arrest us. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Londyn sighed. “Scared, but otherwise unharmed.”

Goddamn it. I rubbed my temples. What was I supposed to do now? I pulled out my phone from my pocket and handed it to Wyatt.

“Call the sheriff’s station. You can explain what happened.”

Wyatt’s face twisted in agony, but he nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

Then I stood there and watched my son make probably the hardest phone call of his life.

The deputy who’d been on the road with us came over and took our statements along with Wyatt’s confession. Londyn refused to press charges. An hour later, Wyatt had been issued a warning and the deputy was on his way to Joe’s house to deliver a reckless driving ticket.

It was a slap on the wrist, but one I knew would sink deep for my son.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Wyatt said as we sat in the living room. We still hadn’t eaten, but I’d lost my appetite. I’d offered to get a pizza delivered, but Londyn hadn’t been hungry anymore either.

“You’re grounded. Until . . . college.” Maybe

longer. “I’m assuming the keying and the tires and wrecking the garage was you too?”

He gave me a solemn nod.

Wyatt was the other person with a key to the garage and the thought that he’d do that to me or a customer hadn’t even crossed my mind. “You’re paying me back for everything. With interest.”