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But what choice do I have? My purse and phone are in his car, way across the lot…and he’s being ridiculous. Outside of his ever-loving mind! Trying to buy me a car!A freakin’ car!Is he kidding me with that?

So, I ran. Throwing in some tactical bobs, a few shifty weaves, and finally…going into hiding.

He chased.

And every shopper and salesperson at the dealership laughed, thoroughly enjoying our lil’ show. I may have even seen one person filming it on their phone. Great, can’t wait for the world to see our game of “refusing mouse hide and bossy cat seek” on YouTube.

I hear his feet crunching on the gravel, each step sounding nearer. Time to make a mad dash for the office, where I’ll call a rational person to come get me.

“Bellamy!” he screams, pounding footsteps gaining on me as I run, as fast as I can, past the service garage, around the corner and in between two rows of cars.

“Go away! Leave me alone, crazy man!”

“I’mcrazy? You’re running around like a headless chicken!”

“You’re not buying me a car! Amscray! Be gone with you, bossy boots!” Almost there. I slant left, but he reads the play, cutting me off.

I end up in his unrelenting arms, a sweating, panting,captivemess.

“Tag. You’re it,” he huffs, out of breath. “Might be more fun, and appropriate to play, I don’t know…at the park? Pretty sure we’ll be on YouTube within the hour.”Already thought of that, you pushy tyrant.“Not every day a girl gets chased around a car lot by her boyfriend,beggingto buy her a new car. And what the fuck is amscray?”

“Scram, in Pig Latin.”

“You couldn’t just say ‘scram?’” He laughs. “Hold on, anddon’trun again.” He digs his phone out of his pocket and groans when he reads the text.

“What is it?” I ask and he turns the screen to me so I can read it.

 

Brynn: INCOMING. He knows. Tracked your GPS. TAKE COVER. I REPEAT. TAKE COVER.

 

Another ping.

 

Sky: You do know the bank calls Daddy if we go in, right? Actually, guess you don’t. Good luck!

 

And another.

 

Sawyer: Remember- I KNOW NOTHING. He should be pulling in any minute. DELETE this message. NOW.

 

“Jefferson?” My voice is shaking. “W, what’s going on?”

“Ah, allow me.” I jolt and definitely hurt my neck, snapping my head to the right so hard and fast I hear a pop…toward an eerily calm and composed Mr. Kendrick, approaching us in a leisurely stride.Swear to God, the man’s like a ghost, continually appearing out of nowhere to scare the shit out of me.

A very worried looking Mrs. Kendrick follows behind the said, scary apparition, at a safe distance.Don’t blame her a bit.

“Laney, please tell your son he has some explaining to do.” Dane Kendrick is daunting, especially when he usesthatvoice, to say the least—I might bolt again.Gotta be more than one dumpster at this place.

“He heard you, Honey. He’s standing right in front of you, and you’re talking out loud,” she rolls her eyes.

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