Page 81 of Wild Highway (Runaway 2)

“Call me,” I said. “And I’ll call you. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t.” Her arms cinched tighter. “What happened, Gemma? Why are you leaving? You seemed happy.”

I was happy.

But I wasn’t going to mix up Easton’s life. Especially if he wasn’t going to ask me to stay.

Last night, I’d felt sixteen again. When I’d left my mother’s home, she’d been there. Watching. She’d sat on the living room couch and watched me walk out the door without a word.

I’d cried for ten blocks knowing she wouldn’t chase after me.

That pain had been nothing compared to Easton’s declaration he wouldn’t beg me to stay.

But I wasn’t thinking about that. Not now.

My priority was to get on the road and drive.

One of these days, maybe I wouldn’t feel so lost. Maybe one day I’d set foot into the place where I was meant to be and know, in my bones, it was mine. Maybe I’d finally quiet the unsettled energy that zipped through my veins.

“I have to go.” I let Katherine go and blinked away the threat of tears. “You have my number.”

She nodded, swiping at her own eyes. “Are you going to come back?”

“Someday.” Maybe.

But only when I could handle the notion of seeing Easton again.

Until then, I was planning on inviting Katherine along on Benjamin’s trip to Bali. I’d whisk her away until I had the courage to return. Until I was strong enough to face Easton, knowing that when I left here today, he’d never forgive me.

“Take care of yourself.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Same to you.”

I turned away and hurried from her office before she could see my unshed tears. Then I made my way outside to the Cadillac parked in front of the lodge.

I’d tried to find Carol and Liddy earlier, but they’d gone into Missoula for Black Friday shopping, so I’d left them a note. They’d probably hate me for that note, but it was better than hanging around.

The Cadillac was warm when I slid inside, the seats soaking up the early morning sun. I cranked the heat anyway as I started the engine, feeling a cold so deep that I doubted I’d be warm for a hundred miles.

Goddamn it. Why? I wasn’t even sure what why I was asking. Why was I like this? Why was life so hard? Why didn’t he love me? Just . . . why?

My chin quivered and I sucked in a few short breaths, but it was no use. The tears flooded and the world became a glassy blur as I cried into the steering wheel.

What was wrong with me? Why was I leaving?

Because I’m terrified.

The answer came immediately. This time in Montana had woken me up. I was feeling again. I was living. I’d fallen in love.

And I was scared that it would all fall to shit.

If I decided to stay and everything here broke, it would destroy me.

Self-preservation was kicking in, and foolish or not, habits were hard to break. I’d been taking care of myself—depending on myself, protecting myself—for a long, long time.

I wiped my face dry—taking the makeup I’d put on this morning away with the tears—then I took a deep breath, sat up straight and put the Cadillac in reverse.

The road was covered with last night’s dusting of snow. There was only one set of tracks to mark the path, probably from Carol and Liddy. Before I could stop myself, I glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing the lodge grow smaller in the distance. Then I rounded a turn and it disappeared behind a towering wall of evergreens.