Page 73 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

The wheels veered on their own, from one edge of the lane to the other.

“Leave me alone!” I screamed.

He hit me again.

The Cadillac’s tires screeched on the road, swerving from one white line to the next. Had there been an oncoming car, I would have crashed head-on.

I touched the brake.

The second I did, the truck’s engine revved and he sped into the opposite lane.

I held my breath, thinking he’d race past me and probably give me the finger. Instead, he hovered in my blind spot.

“What?!” I glanced over my shoulder. I waved him around once more. The moment I lifted my hand off the wheel, he zoomed forward until he was right next to me. Still he didn’t pass. He stayed in that lane, his passenger door so close I could have reached up and touched the handle.

The truck was too tall for me to see the driver this close. I pressed the brake to slow. The truck stayed in place, hovering at my same speed. My eyes scanned the edges of the road, hoping for a place where I could turn off and get away from this crazy asshole. There was nothing.

An oncoming car appeared.

“You crazy son of a bitch.” I slowed more. The oncoming car’s horn filled the air. “Go around!”

The truck didn’t move.

Was this some kind of sick West Virginia version of chicken?

I slammed on the brake, my tires squealing on the blacktop, just as the truck sped up and swerved into my lane. I shimmied between the center lane and the ditch, the car heavy and sluggish to respond.

The oncoming car’s horn blared as it flew past and I yanked the wheel to the safe side.

The correction was too much. Instead of staying between the lines, my front forward tire sank into the soft shoulder. When the front corner of the Cadillac dipped, I knew there was no saving me from a wreck.

The Cadillac dove off the side of the road. The vehicle rattled and bounced as it came to a punishing stop. My side of the car was tipped up at least three feet above the passenger side.

“Oh my God.” I shook as I looked around, my entire body trembling. The truck was gone. From the ditch, I couldn’t see it race away, but the engine’s roar faded in the distance.

I pushed the hair away from my face, taking stock of my body. I wasn’t hurt, or if I was, I couldn’t feel it yet. My fingers barely had the strength to turn the key and shut off the engine. I fumbled with the seat belt.

My purse was on the floor on the other side. I shoved myself out of the driver’s seat, the angle requiring me to stand on the passenger-side door to keep my balance. Clutching the handle of my purse, I crawled out of the car into the ditch and took stock of the situation.

“No.” My heart broke. My poor car. It was so much worse than it had looked from the seat. The front corner was crumpled. The whole thing was propped sideways against the ditch. The driver’s-side tires were still digging into the loose asphalt of the road. Had the ditch been any steeper or the car’s center any higher, I would have rolled.

My head spun and my hands shook. I fisted them, forcing the fear away for a moment to deal with this. I fought the urge to cry, focusing on the anger instead. “That fucking asshole!”

I climbed my way up the ditch on my hands and knees, wiping the dirt from my palms as I stood on the side of the road. I looked both ways.

I was alone.

But unlike my first flat tire, I wasn’t helpless. I took the phone from my purse and called the one and only number saved in the contacts.

“Londyn?” Brooks answered. “You okay?”

“No.” My voice shook. “I need you to come and get me.”

“Where are you?” The sound of his boots echoed in the distance. “What the hell’s going on? I’m worried.”

“Don’t worry.” I blew out a breath and collected myself. “Just head out of town on the highway and you’ll see me. And Brooks?”

“Yeah?”