Run

Chapter Eleven

The car was stifling, having sat in the sun all day long. Wind whipped through it, blowing in hot air, carrying it back out, mostly just stirring things up without cooling them off. But the tires kept rushing over the sun-softened blacktop, the roar of noise filling my head and shutting out thought, and that was all that mattered.

The lights of Austin faded behind me, the faint glow of the now departed sun in front, a thin, dying strip on the horizon. The dull edge of homesickness sharpened and sliced through, and I gripped the wheel tighter.

I hated how it rose at the most inopportune times. Like now. I was in the car, the car was pointing in the right direction. I had my wallet and my phone. I could just keep going. I wasn't ready. While most of the whispers and covert looks had melted away after a year, I still felt everyone's eyes on me in the grocery store, or when I walked around the neighborhood. And until I made my peace, I couldn't go back.

A dirt road veered off the edge of the highway, running between some wire fencing. No gate blocked the road, so I pulled onto it and bounced away from the highway, from the lonely cars and the noise.

I climbed out of the car and boosted myself onto the hood, hissing as the heated metal stung my hands. Should have let it cool off some. I didn't feel like lying in the grass, though, so the car hood it was.

Trevor had left my apartment early in the morning, muttering about my awful mattress. I hadn't heard from him all day, and I couldn't decide if I was grateful or disappointed. Both, I supposed. I could let my neuroses off the leash for a while when he wasn't around, but the sad thing was, he was fast becoming the leash that held them in check.

That quiet strength, the solid shoulder to rest my head on...I'd needed them far more than I'd thought. Both things I'd gotten in Bend from a few corners, yet his was the one that penetrated. I didn't want to think about why that was, or what would happen when I moved on.

Because I would. And he'd stay here, his strength and shoulder available for the next person who needed them.

My phone rang, buzzing angrily against my hip, and I squirmed around, working it out of my back pocket. I squinted at the read out. Trevor. "Hello?"

"Hey. You make it home all right?"

He would ask. The little I knew of Trevor had shown me he was a rare man among men; he cared and he wasn't afraid to let you know.

I glanced around. The grass hid the creatures rustling the stalks from prying eyes, leaving the landscape a gentle rolling one, full of stars and dust and heat. The hood of my car burned through my jeans, and I shifted in discomfort. "Honestly? I have no idea where I am. I just got in the car and drove. I'm in a field. There was a fence, but no gate. Probably trespassing or something. Are there ranches or anything out here?" From what I knew of Texas, they didn't do a lot of farming. Not enough water.

Trevor's laugh soothed some of the nerves jumping under my skin. "Long as you don't go anywhere near their precious cattle, you'll be fine. What do you see?"

A thick blanket of night. The stars weren't as close as they were just outside of Bend, but I still felt if I put up a ladder I might be able to reach them. "I'd forgotten what they'd looked like. The stars. Bend's a pretty good sized town, but you don't have to travel far to get away from the lights. The stars are so close you think if you stretch just far enough you can touch them."

"Can't remember the last time I got out of the city at night like that."

I wish you were out here with me. I pushed the thought away. It was like a snuggly security blanket - comforting, warm, but sometimes you had to go without, see if you could survive. His voice in my ear was enough. "You should try it some time."