Page 31 of You Can Run

“I know,” he whispered. “I hate myself more.”

He lowered his head, his forehead resting against hers. They stood there in the middle of the Texas desert, two lost people clinging to each other.

“You can’t go back, Jess,” he said, his voice cracking. “That life is over. Again.”

Jessica closed her eyes. She pictured the shattered glass in her entryway. She pictured Trent’s face—the possessive, lukewarm safety he’d offered. It felt like a lifetime ago. This man, this violent, arrogant, beautiful man who had broken her heart over a decade ago, was the only real thing she had left.

She dragged in a breath, the heat sitting heavy in her lungs. “That plan of Ryan's,” she said. “Galveston. The guy with the boat.”

Dante’s gaze stayed on her. “Miller.”

She nodded once. “You actually trust that idea?”

“I think it’s the only option that doesn’t end with us running in circles until someone catches us,” he said. “As much as I dislike the guy, I don't think Ryan wouldn’t send us there if it was a dead end.”

She looked past him again, out at the empty road, but she wasn’t really seeing it anymore. “And once we go…” she said, quieter now, “that’s it.”

Dante didn’t rush to answer. “Yeah.”

“No coming back,” she went on. “No slipping back into something normal when this blows over.”

“You think this blows over?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said again, softer this time. “That’s it.”

“But we don’t do it because you’re saving me, Dante. We do it because I’m choosing to go.” She reached up, her fingers grazing the thin scar on his eyebrow.

He reached down, his hand wrapping around hers, and led her back to the passenger side. He didn't steer her this time; he waited for her to step in.

Jessica sat down in the leather seat, the smell of the cabin no longer feeling quite so much like a cage. She watched as Dante rounded the hood and slid into the driver’s seat.

He didn't start the engine immediately. He looked at her, his hazel eyes searching hers. “You okay?”

“No,” she said, a small, tired smile touching her lips.

Dante nodded. He turned the key, and the Hemi roared back to life.

She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. The last time she’d followed a plan like this, it had cost her everything.

The difference now was simple, and terrifying.

This time, no one was forcing her.

THIRTEEN

Trent didn't hearthe door open.

He stood at the kitchen sink with his bloody hands in soapy water, watching it swirl pink and then clear, rehearsing under his breath.

“The brother's a nurse. Lives off the grid outside Agua Dulce. No public records, no listed address.” He paused, adjusted. “You need my help to find him.”

He said it again, softer, trying to strip the desperation out of it and leave something that sounded like actual leverage.

“I don't need you for anything, Officer Haley.”

Trent turned so fast his elbow cracked against the counter. He barely felt it.