Page 52 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

Karson had been wandering around Temecula, searching for a bench or some place to sleep one night. When he hadn’t found anything to his liking, he’d kept walking until he’d spotted a fire.

The old man who managed the junkyard had been burning some wood scraps in a barrel. The light had caught Karson’s attention and he’d snuck in, sleeping under the stars on a foam bench seat that had once been in a truck.

“He’d been living there for a month before the owner of the yard finally came out one night with a blanket. Lou Miley was his name, the junkyard owner.”

Speaking his name brought a smile to my lips. The last time I’d spoken to Lou had been when I’d called to buy the Cadillac. He’d sounded the same as ever. Gruff and grumpy. He spoke in grunts whenever possible. Lou was a naturally unhappy soul, annoyed by the mainstream world. But for us kids, he’d opened his heart. He’d been our hero.

Lou was gone now. Three months after I’d bought the Cadillac, Gemma had gotten word that he’d died in his sleep. Lou hadn’t socialized much, but I knew of six people who would have mourned his passing, me included.

“So how’d you meet Karson?”

“Gemma,” I said. “They lived in the same trailer park. When he stopped coming home after school, she knew he was gone. Then when she ran, she asked around until she found him. He set her up at the junkyard too. Then she found me a month later and two became three.”

I’d been digging through the trash behind a restaurant for food. She’d slapped a sandwich out of my hand, rolled her eyes and ordered me to follow her. She’d taken me to the junkyard, shared some of her food stash and introduced me to Karson.

“Three.”

Brooks drummed the number on my lower back. “I thought you said there were six of you kids.”

“It was only the three of us for about two months. Then Katherine came along. She met Karson at the car wash where he worked. Then came Aria and Clara. Those two were my recruits.”

It sounded strange to say recruits. Most parents would frown at the idea of one kid talking another into running away from home. But home wasn’t always a loving term. Sometimes home meant pain and fear. Home was what we’d been seeking to escape.

“Where’d you find them?” Brooks asked. There was no judgment in his voice. The shock of my life’s history had faded since our first night together. He’d become more curious instead. He’d accepted that running away had been the best of a long list of shitty options.

It had been for Aria and Clara too.

“They found me. They lived two trailers down from my parents with their uncle. When they were ten, their parents died in a car accident. The uncle, he was . . . not right. You know how you can see someone from a distance and you get that shiver up your spine? That was him. Aria and Clara didn’t tell me much about why they left, but they didn’t need to. They walked into the junkyard one day and never looked back.”

I could still picture the twins walking hand in hand into the junkyard like they owned the place. They’d heard from some kids at the pizza parlor where I’d worked that it was where I’d been hanging out.

We didn’t tell people, even other kids, we actually lived there for fear the police would show up and take us home.

“So Karson is in California—”

“Maybe,” I said. “I actually don’t know if Karson is still there. Gemma got word a couple years back that he still lived in Temecula—he was at Lou’s funeral—but he might have moved since.”

“That’s why you’re going there first. To see if he’s there.”

“Yes. Maybe the others are too, I don’t know. Katherine could be in Montana where Gemma and I left her. Aria and Clara were a year younger than me and they stayed in the junkyard when we left. As far as I know, Karson stayed with them.”

“If he’s not there?”

I shrugged. “I’ll find him. California is just my starting point.”

I’d track Karson down and give him the car. Our car.

“We lived together in the Cadillac,” I told Brooks. “That’s why I want to give it to him. It was as much his as mine.”

“Where did everyone else live? In other cars?”

I shifted to put my chin on his chest and meet his eyes. “No. There weren’t many cars still intact. Mostly it was a graveyard of rusted pieces and parts. Gemma built herself a tent. It started as this little hut she built out of sheet metal, then it grew and grew. Sort of like the empire she’s built in Boston.”

“What does she do?” Brooks asked, his fingers drifting into my hair as I spoke.

“She started out selling real estate. Then she took the money she made and created a cosmetics line. From there, she got into fashion. Then she bought into a car dealership. She’s a silent partner in three of Boston’s finest restaurants. She has this gift. She takes one dollar and turns it into ten.”

Thomas didn’t like Gemma, mostly because he was jealous. At her rate, she’d surpass him in wealth within the next five years. I only hoped she found some happiness outside of work. I didn’t want a work-driven life for my friend.