Chapter 22
22
S tormy’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the stoplight blink, its red glow growing closer. She knew she had seconds, maybe less, to make her move. Paul was in one of his rages again, his voice rising with each furious word he hurled at her. His hands gripped the wheel tight, knuckles white, oblivious to the light changing or the tension that thickened the air.
Her breath came in shallow gasps. She could feel the pulse in her throat, every beat echoing in her ears. This is it. Her fingers hovered over the doorhandle, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination. Could she, do it? Could she make it out before he noticed?
Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. No cars behind them, just empty road stretching out in both directions. She glanced back at Paul again—he was too busy muttering curses, his eyes fixed on the road.
She exhaled slowly, steeling herself.
The car was about to cross the intersection, and with it, her last chance to escape.
Stormy reached for the handle, her fingers curling around the cold metal, the click of the lock barely audible over Paul’s rant.
Now.
With a deep breath, she shoved the door open, her legs already halfway out before Paul even had a chance to react. The rush of cool air hit her like a slap, and a jolt of adrenaline shot through her. She tumbled out of the car, the adrenaline kept the impact from registering. Run.
The car swerved slightly as Paul shouted her name, but it didn’t matter. She was already up and running, her feet pounding against the pavement, the sound of the engine fading behind her.
She wasn’t sure where she was going yet—only that it had to be away. Away from him.
Stormy’s eyes locked onto the lot up ahead—the white box trailers stacked in neat rows, almost like a maze of temporary refuge. The familiar sight brought a spark of hope, however fleeting. If she could just make it there before Paul caught up, she might find a way to hide, a way to disappear for a while.
She pushed her legs harder, forcing herself to run faster, her breath a sharp staccato in her chest. The sound of Paul’s tires screeching against the pavement and his angry yells rang behind her, but she couldn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to.
The trailers were close now, just a few hundred yards away, their pale white sides gleaming eerily in the glow of the streetlamp. There was no one around, no other cars in the parking lot or on the road. It was the perfect place to disappear, to blend in with the rows of storage units and maybe, just maybe, slip through unnoticed.
Stormy’s pulse quickened as she neared the edge of the lot, her mind racing through possibilities. The trailers had small spaces between them—enough to hide if she was quick enough. She could slip between the gaps, maybe duck into one of the trailers, and hope Paul would give up, that he would think she was long gone.
Think, think, think, she urged herself, scanning the area as she ran.
She reached the first row of trailers, and without slowing down, darted between them, her body slamming against the cold metal sides. She gritted her teeth against the shock but kept moving. The warm Texas breeze whipped through her hair, and her eyes stayed fixed on the next row of trailers ahead.
She could hear Paul’s car now, the screeching tires turning sharply as he approached the lot. His voice was getting closer too, his shouting growing more frantic. But she had one advantage, he didn’t know where she’d gone. Not yet.
Stormy slid into the next row of trailers, finding a small gap between two of them. She ducked low, her chest heaving as she tried to control her breathing. She could hear Paul’s car come to a screeching halt at the edge of the lot, and for a split second, she thought he might have seen her, but then... nothing.
The silence stretched on.
Don’t move.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, but she forced herself to stay still, her body pressed flat against the dirt and gravel, hoping the shadows would be enough to shield her from view. She strained her ears, listening intently. The sound of footsteps echoed through the lot as Paul started to search, shouting her name.
Stormy’s throat tightened, her hand clenching into the dirt beneath her. She couldn’t let him find her.
She saw it, her way out of the lot, a way to put another layer between her and Paul. Stormy’s gaze locked onto the chain-link fence just fifty feet away. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts, but the sight of the gap, cut and rolled back, just wide enough for her to squeeze through gave her a renewed sense of urgency.
It was her way out.
Beyond that fence there were warehouses looming like silent sentinels. She could make it. She had to.
She took a slow, careful breath, her heart hammering in her chest, but her mind was already calculating her next move. Paul was still yelling, his voice echoing off the trailers. She could hear him pacing, getting closer. He was frantic now, angry and wild, but that meant he wasn’t thinking clearly.
The sound of Paul’s footsteps came closer, his boots crunching against the gravel, just on the other side of the row of trailers where she hid. She held her breath, her body pressed to the cold metal, waiting for the thud of his steps to move past her.
Crouching down she quietly crawled under the trailer she was closest too and began moving on her hands and knees over the grass and weeds. Her hands pressed down on patches of grass burrs. The tiny thorn covered balls stuck into her palms and her knees. Her eyes watered from the sharp, tiny pricks causing her discomfort. She kept moving refusing to let tiny stickers halt her escape.
Lowering herself closer to the ground she saw Paul’s boots and stilled as she watched him moving further away from her position. From where she hid to the fence was covered in grass and tall weeds. She knew that would camouflage the sound of her boot heels as she ran.
Now.
Rolling from under the trailer she got to her feet, staying crouched low, her body tense as she dashed from her hiding spot, moving quickly but silently, her eyes locked on the gap in the fence.
Each step brought her closer to freedom, but she couldn’t slow down—not now. She had no time for hesitation.
As she neared the fence, her hand shot out to grab the rolled back edge of the chain link. She tugged it open wider, just enough for her to slip through. The rough metal scraped against her skin as she crawled through, but she didn’t care. She was already halfway through when a voice—Paul’s voice—suddenly rang out behind her.
“Stormy!”
Her heart lurched. Had he heard her.
Without looking back, she pushed herself the rest of the way through the gap, feeling the cool air of freedom on the other side. She didn’t stop running. She couldn’t afford to.
She was in the alley between two massive warehouses now, the tall, imposing structures looming over her like silent giants. The ground beneath her feet was concrete, cracked and uneven, but it was solid—stable. She was closer, so much closer.
Find an open business. Find help.
She scanned the area, looking for any sign of life. The warehouses stretched in both directions, their loading docks mostly closed, darkened windows lining their sides. There was a distant sound of machinery inside one of the buildings, but she couldn’t tell if anyone was actually around. In the distance she could still hear Paul shouting her name. She was safe for now; he hadn’t seen her run through the fence.
Climbing up the loading dock where she heard the machinery inside, she pounded on the closed door. Noone came. Closing her eyes, she headed back down the ramp. She couldn’t stop, Paul might catch up with her. Plucking out the grass burrs she noticed her long-sleeved shirt was covered in the tiny nuisances. Picking them from the fabric she also knocked them off her knees.
She saw her sleeve had been ripped when she slid through the gap in the fence. Her arm was cut, two gashes weeping blood. The sound of screeching tires sounded from near the lot she’d just escaped from. Paul.