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9
Amillion dollars .
Nice going, Pepper. You officially have a price on your head.
Chase slips back into the dinette for possibly a real phone call this time, and I take my moment.
I run.
A part of me wants to call this bastard and scream Is that all I’m worth to you? But who would I be kidding? This isn’t about me. This is about saving face.
Troy Mayfield will not have a runaway bride on his squeaky-clean record. His perfect image.
I don’t even remember closing the door behind me as I race down the block, taking a left when I reach Crest Lane.
There’s a local city bus that goes to the railroad station and I try to remember which line as I sprint forward.
I refuse to be another burden. I can do this. If I can make it on my own in a new city at eighteen, I can sure as hell pull myself out of a bind at twenty-six.
It starts to rain, and I want to laugh. Of course it’s raining.
I lift my hood over my head, which does little to keep me dry or hide my identity. Like anyone isn’t going to notice some crazy girl in stripe pajama pants racing down the street in the rain.
I spot the sign for the bus stop. It’s in front of an auto shop. The sign that used to read Dick’s Auto now says Beau’s Auto.
My hood slips off as I stare and weigh my options. Water starts trickling down my face from my wet hair. At least no one will recognize me like this. My hair is darker when it’s wet.
I suck in a breath and cross the street when I see the bus turn the corner up ahead.
The garage is wide open and I see someone working inside. Familiar broad shoulders come into view as he peeks his head over the hood of the car. What’s unfamiliar is the gut stretching out in front of him by nearly a foot.
“Jesus, Beau.” He’s not exactly the quarterback I remember. And I can’t say I’m surprised.
I scoff at myself. And you’re not the cheerleader you remember, Pep.
I turn away and wait anxiously for the bus. “Hey,” someone calls and I wince.
Slipping my hood on, I ignore my ex, tapping my foot as I peer up the street, calculating the bus arrival. It’s stopped at the light.
Shit.
“Do I know you?” The voice grows closer, and I turn on instinct. Despite the dark clouds, Beau squints when he sees me and I snap my head back.
Trust no one.
The bus isn’t advancing and I’m panicking.
“Hey…Miss?”
Fuck it. I start to cross back to the other side of the narrow road, but he doesn’t relent.
“It’s coming down pretty hard. You can wait it out in the garage.”
Is he out of his mind? You don’t just invite strangers into your place. Then again, there aren’t many strangers in this town. He probably thinks I’m local.
“Or maybe a ride?”
“I’m good, thanks,” I call back, stupidly.
