Page 85 of Running to You

He had. The memories were coming back. She’d done this horrible, scary, risky thing because God had told her to. He’d whispered in her ear every step of the way. Trust Me.

He wouldn’t abandon her. She had to believe.

And then…

A bang.

The sedan lurched, and she slammed against the back.

The screeching sound of metal against metal.

The car was still moving, slowly. And then…

“Put it in park!”

“Working on it!”

The words were muffled, but familiar. Still, she was afraid to hope.

The car slammed to a stop.

A car door slammed.

And the trunk opened, pouring in sunshine and cool air.

A man looked down at her. Not Gil.

Sam.

He reached in, scooped her out. Held her close, burying his head against her neck. “Thank You. Thank You, Jesus. Thank God I got you.” They stayed like that a long, long time. “I’ve got you, Eliza.” He said it over and over, maybe trying to convince himself as much as her.

She held on tight. Held on for all she was worth.

Slowly, Sam let up his grip enough for her to slide down until her feet hit the ground. But she stayed in his arms, her cheek pressed against his jacket. His heart was thumping wildly. He was breathing like he’d run a race. Maybe he had.

“Police are on their way.”

She turned. Jon was kneeling on Gil’s back. When he struggled, Jon shoved the man’s face into the ground. “You keep fighting, you’re gonna be out cold by the time they get here.”

Gil, the man who’d bullied her so many times. Who’d loomed over her, frightened her, intimidated her. Who’d told her how much she could eat. Who’d taken food off her table and dared her to protest. Who’d practically starved her.

Now, he quit fighting. Just lay on the ground, flat on his face. Subdued.

“Where’s Grant?” Sam shifted—keeping her in his arms—to look around. “He all right?”

“He’s with the other one.” Jon, who’d been so kind at lunch, looked fierce and terrifying. “We drove by just as you started sprinting. Grant jumped out—while the truck was still moving—and I banged a left and spun around the corner, thinking I’d ram him or, if nothing else, follow him.”

“How’d they find us?”

“That’s a good question.” Jon wrapped his arm around Gil’s head, hand in his face. Oh. His finger was at the man’s eyeball.

Sam moved, blocking her view. All she heard was the low rumble of Jon’s voice.

A moment later, he swore just loudly enough for her to hear, and she leaned away from Sam to see.

He looked furious.

“What?” Sam asked.