Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
The ticking beneath the hood became a hard knock as Reese sped down the open road.
She was well east of Fate Mountain now. She’d slept a few hours at a rest area with the driver’s seat partly reclined.
But she’d been driving since eight. The highway ran straight through open sagebrush, with only fences and power lines beside it.
The engine had been ticking all summer. Now the sound was deeper, and it got louder whenever she pressed the gas. The red oil warning light came on.
“No,” she said. “Not here.”
The engine knocked harder and suddenly lost power.
Reese steered onto the shoulder while the car still had momentum.
Gravel struck the underside as she stopped beside a fence with no buildings in sight.
She tried the ignition. The starter spun, but the engine didn’t catch.
On the second attempt the sound became loose and empty. The engine was dead.
She got out and opened the hood. Heat rolled up into her face. The engine smelled burned. She checked the oil because that was the one thing she knew how to check, and the dipstick came up nearly dry.
She closed the hood. The Corolla had carried her out of Spokane, through an entire summer in Fate Mountain, and now it was dead.
Reese stood in front of the car with her arms wrapped around herself.
A truck came over the rise in the opposite lane.
She raised both arms and waved, but it passed without slowing.
Another truck came several minutes later.
Reese stepped closer to the shoulder and waved again. It stayed in its lane and kept going.
Reese walked back to the driver’s door and sat down.
Heat had already started building inside the car.
Her water bottle sat in the cupholder, half empty.
The saltines were on the passenger seat.
Her purse was on the floor, with eight hundred and forty dollars in her wallet. Her two bags were in the back seat.
She calculated the cost of a tow, a mechanic, and the inspection fee. Replacing the engine would cost more than the Corolla was worth. Her budget had been tight since she reached Fate Mountain, but she had kept it balanced by cutting everything to the bone. This time there was nothing left to cut.
The panic that had driven her out of Fate Mountain had been replaced by a new one. Now she was stranded beside the highway with a broken car, limited water, and less than nine hundred dollars.
Leaving Fate Mountain had been a mistake.
She could admit that now. Wanting Axel, trusting him, and believing she could stay hadn’t been mistakes.
The mistake had been letting fear make the decision for her.
The safe house had felt like giving someone else control.
Running had felt like the only choice that still belonged to her.
Now the Corolla was dead beside an empty road, and that choice had stranded her.
The baby kicked twice. “I know,” Reese said. “I’ll fix it.”
She took the phone from her purse and held down the power button. The screen came on for the first time since she had left Fate Mountain. No Service.
“Come on,” she said.
She stood and stepped away from the car, holding the phone up. The signal blinked to one bar, then vanished again. She walked toward the fence line, away from the heat coming off the Corolla, watching the corner of the screen. One bar appeared.
Missed calls and messages began loading. Axel had called twice. He’d also sent a text before he knew she was gone. There was no version of Axel she needed to protect herself from. She’d driven all night running from a man who had never tried to control her.
Now she wanted to tell him she’d made a mistake and needed him. She opened his contact and moved her thumb toward the call button.
Tires screeched and pulled onto the gravel behind her. Reese turned. A white van with a ladder rack had stopped on the shoulder behind the Corolla. The driver’s door opened, and Wade stepped out.
Cold dread moved through Reese before she understood what she was seeing. He was here. Not in Spokane, not in a nightmare, not in the future she had been running from. Here, on the side of the road, with no one close enough to hear her scream.
Wade took one step away from the van. Reese turned from the road. Gravel shifted under her shoes. She gripped the phone more tightly and ran for the fence.
She crossed the ditch and reached the three strands of barbed wire.
She lifted the top strand, forced down the middle one, and pushed herself through.
A barb caught the back of her shirt and tore the fabric before releasing her.
She ran into the sagebrush. The ground was uneven, covered in rocks and low bushes.
The pregnancy had changed her balance, the weight of her belly slowing her.
Her foot landed badly on a rock. She caught herself, but the phone flew from her hand and disappeared into the brush. She didn’t stop for it.
Wade came through the fence behind her. He didn’t shout. She could only hear her own breathing, the brush scraping her jeans, and his boots gaining on her. She screamed. But there was no one to hear.
Wade grabbed her upper arm and pulled her around.
Reese drove her elbow toward him, scratched at his face, and brought her heel down on his foot.
She made contact several times, but he didn’t release her.
He caught one wrist and then closed the same hand around both of them.
He was too strong for her to break free.
“Stop it,” he said in a calm voice. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
Reese managed to pull one hand free and scratched his face hard enough to break the skin.
Wade exhaled sharply, more irritated than hurt.
He tightened his grip, forced her arms against her chest, and turned her back against him.
His forearm pressed across her collarbones as he pushed her toward the fence.
She dug her heels into the dirt, but she couldn’t stop him.
At the fence, Wade stepped on the bottom wire and lifted the middle strand. He pushed Reese through without letting her go.
The van’s side door was already open when they reached the road. He forced Reese inside, and she landed hard on her hip and shoulder. By the time she turned around, the side door was already closing. Reese grabbed the interior handle and pulled, but it didn’t move.
Wade got behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled onto the highway.