Page 158 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“You’re losing your mind! Stop screaming!”

Through all of this, he holds onto me and covers my mouth.

“PETER!” I hear Danny yell, banging from his room.

“There’s no way that little shit untied those knots. How could he?”

Tristian is panicking. He’s finally panicking. He shoves me away, grabbing at his head and pulling his own hair.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he says. “You can’t handle this. You can’t do this. I’m not going down with you. I’m running.” He sprints to the sliding glass door.

I look back over at Peter. I really,reallylook at him.

I think it’s too late.

He’s still convulsing violently. He’s covered in blood. He’s gasping for air and clutching onto life...

This is it. Peter’s dying, and Tristian’s leaving me to take responsibility for his murder. Then what? What will our baby do? A dead father, an incarcerated mother...

A sudden rush of adrenaline hits. I jump up. I have to live. I have to go. I need to run and hide. Someone will untie Danny, eventually.

“Tristian!” I follow him through the sliding glass door. I fall but get back up. I use the railing around the balcony to help me. I look below and see Tristian running through the woods behind our apartment. I sprint down the stairs and chase after him. My tears dry from the wind beating against my face. I run as fast as I can.

“Tristian? TRISTIAN! Don’t leave me all alone!”

I can never come back here.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Danny

I’VE CRIED MYSELF TOsleep a lot of times, but this time’s so much different. I’m tied to my desk. The sun’s just starting to shine in through the window. Peter’s dead on the floor outside my bedroom. I choke up at the thought of it. When will someone find us here? Why didn’t anyone call for help? I’ve been yelling all night. I guess Peter was right about the neighbors... I guess Peter was right about a lot of things,especiallyTristian.

“Help me! Someone help me! Please, someone help!” I kick the floor with my legs as hard as possible. Don’t the people downstairs hear me? Aren’t they home? I feel very, very angry. All I can think of his Hayley and Tristian living out the rest of their lives in prison.

“Help!”

Something bangs in the living room. Someone’s here. They must’ve already found Peter. I hope they pull his body out of the apartment before they untie me. I can’t see him dead. I can’t...

“I’m in the bedroom! I’m in the bedroom! Help me!”

My door opens slowly. No way...

“Peter? Peter! Peter!”

“Danny...” He walks over to me. His shirt is covered with blood. There’s blood in his hair, all over his face, even behind his ears. His nose looks broken. His left eye’s swollen almost shut.

“I thought you were dead! I thought they killed you! You’re covered in blood! Your head! Your face!”

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He stumbles over and sits beside me, examining all the knots tying me to the desk.

“Holy shit. He tied you good. I need a knife.”

He slowly makes it back to his feet.

“You have to call the police, Peter. Call the police right now!”

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