Page 67 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

I waited, wanting that hug. Clara had always hugged goodbye.

Instead, I got a wave and a small smile. “Take care of yourself, Karson.”

“Yeah.”

Then she was gone, ushering August inside with one hand while she carried his seat with the other.

She left me standing beside a Cadillac with a hole in my chest.

I stood there for a few minutes, staring through the glass doors to the lobby, hoping and wishing maybe she’d come back. But when the desk clerk gave me the fifth strange look, I unglued my feet.

This was the end.

“Goodbye, Clara.”

The drive home was a blur, and when I walked through the door to find Holly in the living room with a book in her lap, for the first time, the sight didn’t make me smile.

“Hey.” She closed the book. “How’d it go?”

“Fine.”

“Do you want to—”

“I’m going to go for a run.” I walked away, but not fast enough to miss her startled expression.

I kept walking, disappearing to the bedroom to change. Then I was out the door, my feet pounding on the sidewalk to the beat of the music in my earbuds as I ran the couple blocks to the beach. When I hit the

sand, I pushed harder. Faster. With every step, I willed Clara out of my mind.

There was a woman in my house who loved me. A woman who made me laugh. A woman who I cared for.

Holly didn’t deserve this from me. I would do better.

Tomorrow, I vowed to do better.

Clara was returning to Arizona, and I would forget about her.

Or . . . try. I would try.

I pushed myself until my legs were burning and my lungs were on fire. Sweat dripped down my face and over my bare chest. I hadn’t bothered with a shirt, I rarely did.

Three miles from home, I stopped and collapsed on the sand, resting my forearms on my knees until I regained my breath. Then I sat there for hours, watching as the sunlight faded from the sky.

Tonight. I’d give myself tonight to mourn the loss of Clara again.

Then tomorrow I’d let her go. For good this time.

Lost in my own head, I jumped when my phone rang, the jogging earbuds I wore still locked in place. When I tugged the phone from my shorts pocket, I expected to see Holly’s name on the screen.

But it was an out-of-state number. A number I’d memorized the same moment I’d typed it in earlier tonight.

“Hi,” I answered.

“Hi,” Clara said, her voice low. August must have fallen asleep. “Are you busy?”

“No.” My heart raced faster now than when I’d been running.

“I was thinking about what Holly said. About Wednesday.”