Wanted

Prologue

Frankie

“Stop the car.”

Dillon looks over at me from the driver’s seat before returning his attention to the road. “No.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this with you.” A sudden burst of courage wraps itself around my muscles and bones, swathing me in a newfound defiance. “I want to go back home.”

“Knock it off, Frankie. You’re just scared.”

Scared. Tired. Hopeless.

Check. Check. Check.

I’m all those things, but I’m also desperate. Desperate to get out of this car. Desperate to leave Dillon and his broken promises once and for all. I rub a finger over the trim of white lace on my dress.

“I mean it, Dillon. Stop the car. I’m not going to do this with you. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to get wrapped up in this.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to marry you. We’re breaking up. I’m saying I’m not going to California.”

Two days ago, Dillon offered me a glimpse of a new life. A job opportunity for us that felt too good to be true. He found a temp agency that offered him low-income housing and a stipend in exchange for our cross-country move. A chance to get out of the shitty town holding us both back. One rushed proposal and a cheap thrifted dress later, the minute we got far enough away from home, he ripped it all away from me.

The promise of a fresh start? Gone. Because once Dillon revealed what that new life involved, I knew I didn’t want it.

I swore to myself after the way I was raised, the way I was forced to grow up so young, everything that my parents did in secret, that I’d live a straight life. No drugs, no drinking, no illegal shit. Up until this point, I’ve kept that promise to myself, and I have no intention of breaking it.

“Calm down, will you?”

“I am calm,” I bite out, the anger buzzing through my veins like a swarm of agitated wasps. “Stop the car.”

“Frankie.”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

“Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.”

“For fuck’s sake, Dillon, pull the fucking car over!”

“Goddammit, just shut the fuck up!”

In the span of a blink, the back of his knuckles connect to my lips, shoving the soft flesh into my teeth. Pain blooms from the place his backhand connects. The taste of copper floods my mouth as a split forms in the middle of my lip.

He… hit me.

He actually hit me.

The tires screech on asphalt. The smell of burning rubber fills the car as he returns his hands to the wheel and corrects our course, slowing down on the shoulder. His hard stare flicks back to the road, and a heavy sigh leaves his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

Ah, the obligatory apology after physically attacking one’s supposed love of their life. How cliché.

“Go to hell,” I spit.

Blood trickles from my lip. A peek in the side view mirror confirms a river of crimson dividing the pale skin of my chin. It drips steadily onto the white fabric stretched across my chest visible between the open zipper of my coat.

With the back of my hand, I swipe angrily at my face.

I can’t do this. I’m getting out of here. If he’s not willing to stop, then I have to save myself. The decision sends my heart into a frenzy.

I check the side of the road as Dillon accelerates slowly again. A road sign flashes past my window, leaving nothing standing in my way. Nothing to hurt me but the ground itself. The ditch is a little steep, but the tumble should help disperse the kinetic energy.

I swallow hard.

I think about flying, about stretching my body out low to the ground before tucking into a roll. Protect your head, I remind myself as fear slithers through my veins.

With possibly the last deep breath I’ll ever take filling my lungs, I open the door with my left hand and, pushing off with my right foot, I throw myself out.

I land heavily in a ditch, and the air squeezes from my chest, leaving me breathless. My head bounces off the solid ground. My right arm crumples beneath the weight of my body. The crack is audible above the sound of car tires racing away. Clenching my jaw, I bite back a scream. Only a whimper escapes between my teeth.

Time passes unchecked as I lie motionless, my body nothing but one giant pulsing heartbeat on the ground.

Sticks and debris tear into the fabric covering my knees to burrow in my skin. Pain saturates my body. Feeling the throb in my arm that took the brunt of the tumble, I cradle it close and regain my feet, stumbling into the trees lining the side of the highway.

I blink heavily against a hazy confusion.

I need to create distance. I’m not going back to him. There’s no way he’ll let me go if he finds me again.

I stagger through the puddles leftover from melting snow, half running, half stumbling over hidden branches and rocks on the terrain. Pain and fear hinder the breath in my lungs. I wrap my coat tighter around my body despite the sweat I’ve worked up because I know I’ll need the heat once I stop moving. The wet areas on my clothes from landing on the damp ground will freeze as the temperature drops. Half dressed at best, I can only be grateful I chose a dress with a long skirt to keep my legs covered.

Tears stick to my cheeks. Icy and biting in the cool Minnesota spring air. I keep going, moving as fast as I can until I come to a fence.

Glancing behind me, I pause and catch my breath. There’s no sign of Dillon. No indication that he stopped the car to pursue me on foot.

If I wasn’t flooded with adrenaline, I’d realize it’s not in Dillon’s nature to stop. He never cared enough about me to inconvenience himself, and he never needed me as much as I thought I needed him.

But I’m not thinking clearly right now. Not when I’m this scared and in this much pain. So I keep moving as if he’s only steps behind.

The fence is a wire mesh material with wooden posts. Not exactly easy to slip my foot into and climb up with only one good arm.

I walk the perimeter for a while, searching for an entry point, but whoever owns this fence must maintain it because there’s not a single flaw I can utilize to crawl through.

Which means I have to go over.

With only one working arm.

Gritting my teeth against the pain and chill, I traipse down a little farther.

My stomach recoils at the thought of the broken bone and the fresh burst of pain with my every move. I sway on my feet as the horizon tilts. Squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to reset my equilibrium, I let out a steady breath.

When I open them again, determination rises to get me over this fence.

I scan every section of metal as I pass, begging for something to help me, but time’s up at the hum of tires approaching on the nearby road.

“Shit.”

I don’t know if it’s Dillon, but I don’t have time to assess the situation. If he’s come back for me, it’ll be too late to get away by the time I see him. He’ll drag me back to the car and force me to… to...

The thought slips away on a gust of wind.

I attempt to pull myself over with my good arm. The inflexible rubber of my soles makes climbing impossible. A frustrated grunt tickles my throat.

Stepping the toes of one foot on the heel of the other, I slip hurriedly out of my shoes and throw them over the fence. Within seconds, the freezing cold water soaks through my socks and numbs my feet. This is the only way to slip my toes into the small slots of metal and pull myself up enough to throw my legs over.

The fingers of my good arm wrap tight around the top of the wire, and I thank the universe it isn’t barbed or sharp in any way.

My breath draws out of me in an anxious pant as I climb. My broken arm remains clutched protectively against my chest as I straddle the top. Without hesitating, I vault myself onto the other side.

The rough landing jars my injured arm, and I cry out. A wave of nausea washes over me as my stomach roils at the blinding pain. My vision swims, animating the distant horizon.

As I lean down for my shoes and slip them back on, I gag. Choking back saliva as I run for the trees.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m not going back with him.

No matter what.

What a fucking wedding day.