Page 2 of Love and Memories

“You want some breakfast?” he asked.

Just the thought of food had bile rising in her throat. How could she sit down for a meal at a time like this? When was the last time she’d eaten? The gnawing in her gut wasn’t hunger, it was agony.

“Thanks, but I think I need to get going.”

Bill scratched the gray scruff on his cheek. “Can I talk you into having a cup of coffee?”

Isabella glanced at the diner. The Deano’s sign was at least fifty years old, but the tables she could see through the large windows were filled with people enjoying breakfast and friendly conversation.

“No, but thanks for the offer.” Coffee wouldn’t mix well with the adrenaline coursing through her system.

Bill slapped a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You take care of yourself.”

“I will.” The lie almost clogged her throat on its way out. She’d done a poor job of taking care of herself up to this point, and she was worse off than ever.

Maybe that was the problem. She’d trusted others to take care of her, and they’d only hurt her. Her parents, her so-called friends, the man who’d promised to protect her–they’d stomped all over her and left her broken in the end.

Isabella’s new goal was to be her own savior. She couldn’t trust anyone. She’d been burned too many times.

Bill got out of the car, and Isabella did the same, leaving the map on the seat. She didn’t need it anymore. The whole town was blazed into her memory.

When she met him behind the vehicle, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few dollars. “Take this.”

Isabella shook her head. “I can’t do that. You’ve already done too much.”

Bill grabbed her hand and shoved the money into it. “Take it. Just remember what I told you.”

“Don’t go back,” Isabella whispered, repeating his words from the previous night.

Bill nodded once and walked away. He disappeared into the diner, shutting the door on the last piece of her old life.

Isabella shook out her tingling fingers and headed for the road. The crunch of gravel beneath her feet was the only sound of the morning.

When she reached the road, she glanced at the rising sun before turning her back to it and heading west. According to the map she’d memorized, Blackwater Hope House was three miles away.

What would she say when she arrived? How much was safe to tell them? Would they even take her in?

Possibilities and options raced through her mind as her feet pushed through the thick grass lining the side of the road. How far had she walked? She should have brought the map. She didn’t need the worn paper anymore, but it had become a crutch on the long drive from Omaha.

The quiet hum of an approaching vehicle rose behind her, and she fought the urge to turn around. How long would she be looking over her shoulder just waiting for the past to catch up with her?

The engine revved, and she turned–instinct jerking her around. An old black truck raced toward her, and fear raked its claws down her gut. They’d found her, and the worst one of them all had come to shut her up forever.

The truck swerved toward where she stood on the side of the road, and the will to survive flared hot and bold in her middle.Isabella dove for the ditch, but she was too late. She hadn’t been careful enough–hadn’t kept her guard up as she ran.

A jolt of heat hit her side as the world around her tumbled and plunged into darkness.

2

TRAVIS

Travis settled into the medical assistance vehicle as Matt took his place behind the wheel. The dispatcher continued to rattle off information from the Blackwater Police Department about the victim on the outskirts of town.

“Adult female. Loss of consciousness.”

Travis entered the location in the GPS. He’d barely settled in for his shift at the station before duty called, and from the information dispatch relayed, it didn’t look good for the woman involved.

“Hit-and-run,” Travis repeated. Those were always the worst, but she was a pedestrian. A human didn’t stand a chance against a moving vehicle.

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