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Settling into the driver’s seat, Tiffany thought it over. Her mom was one hundred percent correct about her not being able to continue running her whole life. “Hang onto it for now, Mom. I need time to think.”
“All right, dear, that’s just what I’ll do. Stay safe and call me when you can.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too, dear. Be careful.”
“I will.”
Even as she spoke the words, an idea was brewing in the back of Tiffany’s mind that would make being careful an impossible promise to make. Staring at the glove box, she knew Ryder had long since cleaned and replaced her small handgun.
Reaching out, she unlocked the glove box and grabbed the small gun safe. Sliding her finger over the biometric scanning plate, she opened the lid and stared at the sleek handgun and extra clip nestled safely in the foam housing. An image of her snapping the clip into place and pointing it at Stuart’s head floated through her mind. Why should she always be the one running scared?
Quickly closing the case, she heard the lock click automatically into place. Shoving it back into the glove box, she speedily locked the small compartment. Starting the engine, she wondered what it would be like to have a life free of running.
Her blood boiled as she remembered missing her father’s funeral and all the other special family occasions since she went on the lam. Stuart was still enjoying the holidays with his crazy-ass family. How was that fair?
Since being around Ryder, Tiffany had begun reassessing different parts of her life. She’d spent years acting like a hapless little victim, allowing Stuart to stalk and torment her. What would happen on the day she finally stopped accepting the role that crazy man foisted upon her?
Deep in thought, her mind drifted through the long line of hurts Stuart had put on her while they were married. Never once had she managed to get her head and body on the same page to mount a unified defense. She begged and pleaded with him, like a hapless little victim, freezing up when it came time to act. What she’d give to have all those lost moments back again. Her head filled with dark thoughts—thoughts best left unspoken.
Sliding from her dark internal musings back into the present, Tiffany put the vehicle in drive. Having spent most of her adult life homeless or nearly so, she could easily write a book on the subject. The first rule of being homeless was to never look homeless.
Stopping by a local discount department store, she picked up few nondescript changes of clothing, including yoga pants, T-shirts, sneakers, and a gym bag. Heading to the fitness center, she was grateful that her father had clued her in about staying fit and using the gym as a place to shower. Personal hygiene was an area most people didn’t tolerate another person neglecting.
In any event, Tiffany had picked up a hair coloring kit and decided to dye her hair jet black. Going from brunette to black shouldn’t prove to be too shocking a change when she looked in the mirror. The gym had private showers, so dying shouldn’t draw much attention either, as long as she was careful to clean up well afterward.
After a light workout, shower, and putting on some clean clothing, she was starting to feel like a million bucks. Climbing back in the driver’s seat, something clicked in her head.
Staring straight ahead, she started the car and slid the gear soundlessly into place. Tired of living some kind of half-life and being estranged from her family, Tiffany headed for home. One way or another, she was finishing this.
~ Ryder ~
Staring up at his father, Ryder asked, “She sent him a what?”
“A cease and desist request written in crayons on a gigantic sheet of paper.”
Trying his best to wrap his mind around what his father was saying, Ryder mumbled mindlessly, “Crayons? I came all the way here because you said she was in danger, and now you are telling me she’s sending him gigantic notes written in crayons.”
“I shit you not, son. It was written in several shades of purple. I don’t know what that was all about, but the dude freaked the fuck out, right there standing in the street. A messenger cycled right up and handed him a tube. He signed for it and opened it up real eager like. I could read it from twenty paces away.”
“I think between him and us, we’ve pushed her right over the edge,” Ryder commented.
“Maybe, but he was hot under the collar. He took it to the police, and they pretty much told him to fuck right off. Since it was little more than a note asking him to stop trying to contact her, they couldn’t do a thing.”
Ryder’s brows furrowed. “It seems really weird to me. You’re sure her mom hasn’t seen her?”
“Like I told you on the phone, son, my gut tells me she’s here, but none of us has seen her. We’ve had her mother’s home staked out since we arrived. She even brings Hickory out baked goods and coffee. Trust me, if she had anything to hide, we would definitely know about it.”
Pacing back and forth in the spacious hotel room, Ryder obsessed about where his old lady could be. “What in God’s name possessed her to come here? The dude’s a total nutjob. She’s not safe here.”
“Maybe she got tired of running and figures her only shot at having a life with you is seeing this through,” his dad offered.
“I hope the fuck not,” Ryder said through clenched teeth. “Being with me is not worth facing off with a lunatic.”
“I’m not sure what she’s doing, but the man’s been looking progressively more fucked-up over the last week or so.”
“It’s all fun and games until someone gets poked in the eye.” Ryder realized he was screeching, but he didn’t give a good goddamn.
