Page 12 of One Last Promise

The siren grew louder.

She took off for her car, dove in and shut the door. Locked it even as he slammed hisfist on the glass.

Then,thank you—her car turned over. She pulled out, spitting up grass as she missed the driveway.

He ran out into the road.

She met his eyes as she floored it.

He spun out of the way.

At the end of the block, a glance into her rearview mirror confirming that no, he wasn’t running after the car, she let up on the gas, refusing to drive like a maniac.

Especially as she passed the police on the way out of the subdivision.

Her body shook, but she kept driving through the neighborhoods, the night descending around her. Only when she stopped at a light and spotted the neighboring driver staring at her did she realize she was bleeding. A cut on her face, her lip split open, and probably she wore a black eye too.

Rigger knew how to throw a punch, of course.

She put a hand to her face and turned onto a side road, then searched the backseat for a towel. Nothing.

One thought pressed over her—they needed to leave town.Now.

She opened the glovebox, shifted inside it. Her hand closed on a package of travel tissues. As she pulled it out, a piece of paper fluttered out.

She pulled out a tissue and pressed it to her face, then picked up the paper.

Find me if you need me.

The tight, blocky handwriting conjured up the owner. Moose Mulligan. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, booth two, in the front, chocolate milk, midnight chicken, fries, and the man who’d asked her out.

She’d turned him down.

She hadn’t seen him since because he’d fledafter she turned him down for a date. But what was she to do?—saying yes meant peeling back her life and . . .

And that would get them all into trouble. At the very least, her secrets were ticking bombs that he’d be better off not knowing.

Still, she’d felt bad, missed his friendship, so she’d sent chicken home with his brother what seemed like years—but might only be weeks—ago, with a note asking him to come back.

Then Rigger had shown up, and she’d forgotten about Moose, what with trying to keep Hazel safe.

But he was a friend. And more importantly, a pilot.

And he’d written his address and phone number on the napkin and . . .

Her eyes filled, her throat burning.Maybe . . .

She put her car into drive, and with the sun in her rearview mirror, she headed toward the Glenn Highway.

His address put him east of Eagle River in an upscale community located on the Knik River.

It didn’t have to be complicated, just a simple “Moose, can I get a ride?” To where? Juneau? Or even Fairbanks. Just someplace off the map.

Of course, she’d need the money first. But that came after she appeared on Moose’s doorstep. . . .

She glanced in the rearview mirror. Not looking like this.

She needed a gas station and then directions to Moose’s place.

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