Page 18 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

“Get that off my forehead, you fucking crazy psycho!” I yell as he blinks slowly.

Oh, my god. That’s a first. Anger.

He removes his weapon. Send in the parade, the choir, and let’s sing. I’m still alive. He slumps back in his seat, and I sit silently until the pressure drops. At least my heartbeat is steady.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, combing his hair with his fingers.

“Oh really? I thought the gun would knit me a pair of slippers.”

He sighs and holsters his gun in his jacket. “I’m not used to having someone wake me.”

I point at the giant store. “We’ve arrived at your destination.”

He cocks his head, unblinking, and adds, “You’re weird. You know that?”

“Off you go.” I gesture toward the doors. “You need things for your vacation, don’t you?”

He scrutinizes me, searching for an answer deep in my dark brown eyes. Then, his lips stretch with an unexplained smile. “I think I might like you,” he says with an unreadable expression.

“Okay…”

I have a deep conviction this will end in gorgeous disaster.

“I’ll return in a few minutes,” he adds.

“All right.”

He struts into the oversized store, and I get out of my car to take a deep breath. The occasional honk blends with birds chirping and people’s distant chatter.

I need to get rid of him, but the task is intimidating. A gun to my head is a no-no.

I walk up to the store, and a sudden breath hits the back of my neck like an icy gust of wind. It sends a violent shiver down my spine, causing my skin to crawl and my heart to race with fear.

I struggle to swallow. When did he come back? This man is not normal. He reads my thoughts.

“And don’t even think about leaving me here.” His whisper brushes my ear.

But what am I going to say?

“I had that chance at the gas station,” I reply.

My uncle’s house waits for me with a hot shower to exorcize this chaos. I should go right now.

The hitchhiker walks into the store again. A greasy food and freshly brewed coffee aroma wafts through the air, and my mouth doesn’t even water.

A mother with her toddler tribe gives me a worried look. “Is something wrong, darling?”

Help me, please, ma’am; I’m a big dumbass!

My throat tightens, and no sound escapes my lips. I blink rapidly, hoping the breeze created by my fluttering eyelids could somehow dry the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. “I’m just tired.”

Reality catches up to me in an epic tsunami of madness.

Shit.

It hits me hard, dispelling any notion that I’m living in a movie where the hero always survives. My eyes fill with tears, blurring my vision as my poor decisions crush my heart, and my head fills with the rattles of pills in a bottle and Eric’s mean whispers.

“Such a fucking cunt. You’re not worth it.”

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