Page 47 of Chasing Amanda

No. A rapist.

Not just a rapist. A serial killer.

He’d saved her not because he was amazing but because…because he’d been given good instincts. He was part of a bigger plan.

Which meant there was a Planner.

Which meant Amanda was supposed to be part of Mark’s life.

What did that mean?

Mark didn’t know enough about God to answer that. He should’ve actually paid attention in church instead of pretending to in an effort to avoid his mother’s wrath.

She was the reason he felt so conflicted.

But Amanda wasn’t anything like his mother.

No, Amanda was kind and encouraging and honest. She hadn’t asked Mark for anything except that he not discard her. She would be the one to do all the sacrificing if they stayed together. While she’d have plenty of opportunities to date, he’d be stuck in the desert, surrounded by Marines.

What was he running from?

He slowed to a stop.

Was he really willing to let her go because of some misguided fear of women? Would he really let his mother’s hate dictate his entire life?

He’d worked so hard to do his own thing, despite his mother and her demands. She’d been furious when he turned down Princeton in favor of the Academy. When it came time for him to choose a branch of the service, she’d insisted he choose the Navy.

He’d bucked his mother’s demands in every area of his life, congratulating himself on how he hadn’t let her define him or choose his life’s goals.

But here he was, letting his fear of ending up with someone like his mother scare him away from the woman he loved.

Beautiful, sweet Amanda was nothing like Patricia Truman Johnson.

Amanda loved him, and her love wasn’t demanding or cruel or manipulative. It was true and real. A love he could count on.

A love that would give him hope.

And like a fool, he’d walked away.

He turned and sprinted, dodging pedestrians and dogs, hurrying back to where he’d left Amanda. But she wasn’t there.

He continued to her building, pressed the intercom for her apartment.

No answer.

He pressed again and again.

Come on, come on.

She’d answer, wouldn’t she?

She would. She would hope it was him. Even now, she believed in him.

She couldn’t have gone far. To a friend’s maybe?

To Carl’s?

Mark would not consider that, not that he’d have anyone to blame but himself.