Page 70 of Whiskey Run Heroes

By some miracle, I haven’t been in an accident or pulled over, and I figure I’m doing okay. I just have to keep going.

“What city is this?” I ask the clerk on my way out of the gas station.

He looks up and his eyes round when he sees me. I know I look bad, exhausted, and a little out of it. “This is Albuquerque.... New Mexico.”

“Thank you.” I nod and turn to go.

I hear the clerk ask me if I’m okay, but I just keep going. I want... no, I need to keep moving and put more distance between myself and Miles’s twin.

Once on the road, my phone keeps ringing. First Anna and then her husband, Nico. I’ve kept sending them to voicemail, but now, I put my phone on silent because they are not giving up. I know I need to talk to them, but first I need a plan.

On the freeway, I continue driving northeast. Every scenario plays out in my mind for when the twin catches up with me. I’ve tried to make sure I’m not being followed, but I’m not a professional by any means. I’m scared, but the more miles that go by, the angrier I get. I don’t want to be a pawn to be used by men like him to hurt my family. I want to take back the power and fight, but to do that, I know I need to lead him as far away from my family as possible and still give myself time to prepare for his arrival.

Almost eight hours and two gas stops later, I rub my hands across my face and stretch in the seat when I look at my dash again. The check engine light is on. The little arrow that points out if the engine is cold or hot is in the red zone, and I barely make it another mile before the hood is smoking. I take the very next exit and note it says Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. There’s a sign for a car repair and gas one mile ahead, and I pray that I make it.

Just as I’m pulling in, a big guy comes out and is closing his garage doors to the shop when he turns to glare at me. He’s big,covered in tattoos, and just looks like a man I wouldn’t want to meet in a deserted parking lot.

What am I doing here? I don’t have the money to fix this hunk of junk.

I get out of the car, and the hard look on the guy’s face softens. “We’re about to close, but it looks like you’re having a rough go of it.”

The way he’s looking at me, I don’t know if he’s talking about me or the car. I haven’t showered. I know I’m a mess, but my car is now smoking so badly I’m just waiting for the flames to start shooting out of it.

I look down at myself and notice that there’s a tear in my blouse across the shoulder, and the top three buttons are missing. On top of that, there’s blood spatter from hitting the twin with my keys on my shirt and neck. How did I miss that when I washed my face? With the shirt hanging open the way it is, I can see the bruises forming on my shoulders where he grabbed and held me.

I pull my shirt together and don’t offer an explanation. I sigh. “Yeah, definitely a rough go of it. How much do you think it will cost to fix my car?”

“Probably two thousand.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You didn’t even look at it.”

He smiles, and it looks strange, sort of like he doesn’t really do it a lot. “Yeah, I’ve been doing this a long time. It’s a cracked engine block. And that price is just for parts. I won’t charge you labor.”

Shoot. I can’t afford that. My mind starts to whirl. “Okay, how much will you give me for it?”

“To buy it?” he asks. And when I nod, he starts to laugh. “I’d be lucky to get five hundred dollars out of it for parts.”

“Sold. You have a deal. It’s yours for five hundred dollars,” I tell him, holding my hand out.

He stares back at me, and I’m waiting for him to tell me no, but he surprises me. His rough hand slides into mine. Trust is a hard thing for me. Having a man touch me is too. But it’s almost like he knows that by the way he squeezes my hand once and lets it go. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappears back in his shop, and I go through my car and grab the few belongings I have in it. When he comes back, I have my bag and purse over my shoulder.

He comes back quickly and hands me five hundred dollars in cash. I sign over the title that I dug out of the glove box and hand it to him. He points down the road. “There’s a bus station a few blocks away. Can I drive you over there?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him yes, but I shake my head. “It’s fine. I can walk a few blocks.”

He nods, but he doesn’t seem happy about it. He walks over to his truck and comes back to me. He gives me directions to the bus station and hands me a sweatshirt with the repair shop’s name and logo on it. “Here,” he says as he shoves it and a pocketknife in my hand. “If your old man catches up with you, stab him with this and twist.”

I blink as I stare back at him. Of course he thinks I’m on the run from a boyfriend or husband—what else would he think? I take the gift from him and stick it in the front pocket of my dress pants. “Thank you.”

The walk to the bus station only takes a few minutes, but I’m antsy as I sit in the terminal and wait the two hours for the bus departure time. I spent half my money on a ticket to Tennessee. We went there for a family vacation once when I was little, and I’ve always wanted to go back. Plus, it’s on the other side of the country—away from Anna and the rest of the Haven Team.

The bus ride consists of me dozing a little but mostly just waiting and worrying every minute of the ride. I don’t talk to anyone, doing my best to go unnoticed. The trip takes over twodays with all the stops. My phone has been going crazy, but I still haven’t answered it, and I know that Anna has to be worried sick. By the time we make it to Knoxville, I get off the bus, walk through a bad part of town, and stop at the first motel I can find.

As soon as I get into my room, I barricade the door and take a quick shower. I could stand under the hot spray for hours, but I don’t let myself. I clean up really fast and put the same dirty clothes on. I’d give anything to have something clean to wear, but I can’t wash them. I have to be able to go quickly if I need to. Knowing I can’t put it off any longer, I call Anna.

“What is going on, Kali? Why haven’t you answered my calls? Your roommate hasn’t seen you. I’ve been worried sick.”

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