Page 70 of Runaway
Now, he stared back at me with rage, frustration, resentment, and the bitter dregs of something gone very, very sour.
At that moment, I knew I'd made a mistake.
I'd vastly underestimated his sense of entitlement and the way he showed up in the world. His desire to not only scratch back at anyone that harmed him, like a festering cat, but to destroy. I'd assumed that Mark's larger-than-life personality and foolish sense of confidence made him safe from someone like Joshua. Joshua who lived far more quietly, but not less dangerously.
Most of all, I'd underestimated everything that Joshua had to lose. Had the company let him go? Did his wife find out and divorce him?
Or was his sense of being in love with me delusional enough to push him to this point?
It all came back to me at that moment, when the fury of a thousand suns seemed to channel from his gaze into mine. We'd always played a game. Cat-and-mouse. From the first day, I rejected his advance to this very moment.
And I'd just been ignoring it.
Joshua wasn't here because he was an angry, thwarted lover. No, Joshua was here because he waslivid, probably on the verge of being destitute, and desperate. I was the one that got away.
When no one had ever got away.
My throat ached as I stared at him, hardly daring to breathe until a light touch on my arm pulled me from the trance. I blinked, looked at the cashier who must have asked me a question several times because she stared at me like I'd lost my mind, and realized that several people stared at me that way.
"You okay?" she asked
Her voice swam through several layers of thought before I managed to nod. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Yes."
"It's $205, dear. You got any more?"
Numbly, I passed over another $100 bill. My gaze darted back to the exit, but as expected, Joshua had left. No amount of searching helped, because he was gone. He'd made his point. He'd delivered his jab. He'd effectively cut off any hope and exhilaration and normalcy I'd started to feel again with Mark.
Just then, Mark nudged his way back through the line and at my side, a container of toilet paper in hand. The cashier dutifully rang it up and passed me my change. I barely registered Mark's annoyed exclamation once he'd realized I had paid. Then, like it happened years later, I felt his touch on my elbow.
"Stella?"
Concern colored his tone.
"Outside," I rasped.
Even I wasn't sure whether I was telling him I'd explain myself outside, or whether I wanted him to know that there was something outside. To his credit, Mark simply glanced around, got the change, thanked them for their help, put an arm around me, grabbed the cart, and led me away. I stiffened as we passed through the doors where Joshua had stood, but he wasn't there.
Just as he wasn't in the parking lot.
Or near the car.
Or anywhere.
But now I could feel him. The power of that ugly gaze. The wrath behind the fire. The utter desperation of a man that may have nothing left to live forbutto win. No, Joshua was coming.
And there was no way to stop him.
24
Mark
By the time we made it back to the car, Stella trembled.
I slung the grocery bags in the seat, shoved the cart with a bunch of others, and climbed inside. Her fingers shook against mine when I grabbed her hand and steered us away from the parking lot. What I wanted to do was pin her against the truck, wrap her in my arms, and help her speak. But I had little doubt as to what happened, and if Joshua was evenmaybenear, she'd want out of here.
So I settled for holding her hand as we disappeared down the canyon, toward Adventura. A warm fall sun beat down, as if scoffing at the idea of snow that was supposed to descend.
By the time we returned, her uneasy breathing had calmed. She tracked every car that passed us, but especially the ones that followed behind. No one seemed to tail us through the canyon, and just to be sure I pulled off once or twice. No one followed and she didn't ask what I was doing.
