Run

Chapter Twelve

I held my wrist up to the light. The bruising was mostly gone, the only reminder I'd seen Adam in the first place. I hadn't seen him since the night in the bar. Given how big the city was, the chances were slim I'd run into him again.

Though I'd somehow managed to run into him at all. How did he know I was here? Hell, did he even know? Maybe it was a coincidence. Happenstance. I hadn't been in touch with anyone from Bend. I ignored the worried emails and phone calls from my parents, and those had mostly gone away after I'd broken down and called my mother on the way to Saint Louis. At the time, I didn't know how far I'd go, so it seemed safe.

I probably ought to call her again, or send an email. And I will. After work.

I hurried around and made sure all the windows were closed, guaranteeing a sauna when I got off shift this evening. Grabbing my purse, I ran out the door and down the steps to the parking lot, eyes on my car.

Light fractured and glinted in the sun, and I squinted against it, slowing as I drew closer. The glittering shards were what was left of my driver's side window. There was more on the seat, jagged pieces sticking out of the frame, waiting for me to catch my skin on them.

On autopilot, I pulled out my phone and called Gwen. "Little's Place, what can I do for you?"

"It's Ken. Someone broke into my car and there's glass all over the seat. I need to take care of this before I can come in." That's a joke. Take care of it how? With Monopoly money? I'd managed to scrape together a couple hundred toward a safer, cleaner apartment, but even if I used that, I doubted it'd be enough to tow the car someplace and get the glass fixed.

"Well, crap, hon. Get here as quick as you can. Celia's down for the night; some sort of bug. Need anything?"

A unicorn and a fluffy kitten to cuddle. "Any good body shops that won't cost me my firstborn?"

Gwen snorted. "Gimme a few minutes. I think Tommy's brother's got a shop out your way. And when you get in," she added, "we're talkin' about that neighborhood of yours."

Great.

We hung up, and I leaned against the hood of the car, staring at my phone. Phone calls were excellent time killers. I could call my mother now. Homesickness crowded in, the need to hear the voice of someone who cared about me threatening to break me. The nails on my fisted hand dug into my palm. I should leave the line free, for Tommy's brother.

I scrolled through my contacts, thumb hovering over my parent's number. Mom hadn't understood why I couldn't just redouble my therapy efforts. I hadn't understood. There was this invisible force shoving me from behind, muttering that I needed to get out get out get out. Until the night of the anniversary, the night Adam had confronted me, and I listened and got out.

The phone rang in my hand, the number on the readout unfamiliar. A man with a slurry Southern drawl, almost too thick to understand, said he was Tommy's brother Calvin and he gave me directions to his body shop. "Can't say how quick it'll be fixed, but one of the boys can give you a lift to Gwen's after you drop off the car."

I found an old sweatshirt in the trunk of my car and wrapped it around my hand, brushing the glass from the seat before spreading the sweatshirt out. Calvin's shop was less than a mile from my craptastic apartment. He looked like Tommy, only heavier, his face round and shining with sweat from the midday heat.

He eyed the window. "A day. Minimum. I don't have the glass available, and I doubt my supplier will be able to come up with it before the end of today." The price he named had me flinching, but more than I needed a place to sleep, I needed the damn car. I couldn't get to work without the car.