Page 79 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“You said it was dead last night. You asked me to charge it.”

“WHERE?” I climb back onto the bed and crawl closer to him.

“It’s on your nightstand. Right behind you.”

“Oh.” I turn around and see it. I pull it off the charger, jump from the bed, and run into the living room. I hear him get up and follow behind me. I sit down on the couch.

No, no, no, no.

“Hayley, did something else happen last night? I’m just very concerned—”

“Why do you need to know everything? It’s not like you tell me everything. You tell me nothing. Nothing! I don’t know what part of Scotland you’re from, I don’t know why you came here...or even how you got here! For all I know, you could be a murderer. A murderer who escaped from prison and swam across the border to freedom.”

“Uh... I don’t know how to swim.”

“Oh, so the rest is true then?” I slam my phone down beside me on the couch, but I don’t let go of it.

“I’m not talking about this right now. You’re being too paranoid.”

“Right now? You never talk about it!”

“It’s my story—”

“Oh my fucking God! Just leave me alone, please! I just need a minute. Go back in the bedroom. Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t go back to sleep. Danny has to get up for school soon.”

“Great. Go...pack his lunch or something!”

“That’s what I was going to do.” He walks toward the kitchen.

I pick my phone back up and look through it. Nothing here that looks suspicious... Still, I shouldn’t let Peter anywhere near it. What if Tristian texts me? I push my phone into the pocket of my pajama pants and lay across the couch, shoving my face into the cushions.

Chapter Fourteen

Peter

“PETER, DO ME A FAVORand refill the freezer behind the bar,” Sean says, peering out the back door of the building.

I wipe my head with a dish towel and lean against the cool bricks. “The ice machine stopped working.”

“When?”

“When I came in this afternoon, it was completely empty.”

“Great!” He shouts and throws his hands in the air. “Just fucking wonderful!”

He goes back inside, slamming the door. I’m just about to light a cigarette when he comes back out with a white bucket.

“Here. Walk down the street to that Japanese joint and ask them for some of their ice.” He drops the bucket on the ground.

“I’m not going to walk to the sushi restaurant and beg them for ice. I’ll look like a complete ass.”

“You think I’m going to let you serve warm drinks at my bar?”

I laugh and roll my eyes toward the night sky, then back at him. He’s serious. I put the cigarette back in the box and shove it into my apron before grabbing the bucket.

Bampot...Complete bampot... I don’t even know how to approach this.

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