Runaway

by Katie Cross

  “Mark!”

  I pasted a smile on my face and hoped they wouldn't be able to tell it was a tiny bit unpleasant. Seconds later, Lizbeth had run up to my side and wrapped her arms around me, sweaty clothes notwithstanding. My heart beat a little too hard, and I prayed she wouldn't notice. Instead, she stepped back, a woman full of sunshine, sparkles, and moonbeams. She turned to Stella with a bright smile, her hand stuck out.

  “Hi! I'm Lizbeth.”

  “Stella.”

  “Good to meet you. Jim said he liked you, which is high praise.”

  Stella blinked as if she couldn't comprehend Lizbeth's words. I didn't blame her. Dad didn't say much, but after working as the county sheriff for decades, he read people unusually well. It was the real reason I'd taken Stella by. I'd wanted him to meet her, even briefly, just to get his thoughts. He'd texted me later and said, She seemed nice.

  Which really was high praise from Dad.

  “Oh.” Stella managed a similar smile. “Thanks . . . I think.”

  Lizbeth beamed further. She loved making friends. JJ jogged over. If the smile plastered across his face meant anything, married life had been good to him so far. We collided in a hard man-hug, and it felt really good to see him again.

  “Mark,” he drawled as he stepped back.

  “My favorite hippie JJ.”

  He socked me in the arm and I instantly felt better. I put a hand on Stella's shoulder to introduce her, then almost regretted it. We'd had a strict, silent, no-touch policy since she'd arrived. Aside from me grabbing her hand yesterday to help her off the four-wheeler, we hadn't touched skin again, and that had felt like an afterthought. This was on purpose. And she didn't flinch away, which felt like progress, so I left it there.

  “JJ, this is my friend, Stella. Stell, this is my hooligan brother that I've probably talked too much about.”

  JJ smiled warmly, extending a hand. I expected a little bit of a glazed-eyed stare from her. Quick, startled blinks. Something. Girls always had reactions like that to JJ, with his high cheekbones and long hair pulled away from his face. He was a handsome god amongst men, particularly on the rocks.

  Stella just smiled with the same casual warmth and took his hand.

  An unexpected sense of relief followed. With Stella here, everything would be different. For maybe the first time since Lizbeth wandered—or, more aptly, crashed—into JJ's life, I wouldn't be the third wheel. The one that ignored their making out or giggles or snuggle sessions while I desperately tried to bury myself in the business.

  The one that also hid how he really felt because reality was disastrous.

  Even if Stella was only a friend, that went a long way. Separating from JJ had been harder than I'd expected. Like peeling apart the sticky parts of two pieces of smashed duct tape. Something was going to get shredded. With over thirty years of our life side-by-side, there was a chasm without him. One that no amount of mountain man life could ever fill.

  And maybe there'd even been an empty spot with him around.

  Lizbeth hooked a loyal arm around JJ's waist and leaned into him. He took her weight and rested an arm across her shoulders with a smile. His fingers toyed with her hair that fell like glimmering strands of fire.

  Lizbeth's gaze focused on me, then her jaw dropped.

  “Mark,” she cried, “did you trim your beard?”

  I tugged at it a little. “Yeah. Needed it.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Looks nice. And a haircut?”

  “I'm not a caveman.”

  “I thought you were going full mountain man,” she said.

  “I ran out of flannel.”

  She snorted. I motioned to their car, then started to walk toward Adventura again. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” I asked. Stella followed to my right, a step behind, while JJ and Lizbeth fanned out on the other side.

  “I have updates on your website and HomeBnB listing,” Lizbeth said as she twined her fingers with JJ. I kept my gaze ahead and wondered about the mountain lion.

  “Brought you some lunch, too,” JJ said. He cast a quick glance toward Stella, but she was looking up in the trees. Wondering about the cougar as well, perhaps? “Thought you might like some company. But if we're—”

  “You're not,” I said brightly. “You know I love it when you come.”

  His shoulders dropped a little bit. Was it relief? Was he struggling with the change too, or was he too happily distracted? Even Lizbeth kept glancing at Stella, then me, as if trying to sense whether there was some sort of undercurrent there. Well, she wasn't wrong to wonder.

  Sometimes I did too.

  I clapped a hand on JJ's shoulder, able to push those thoughts away because it's what I did so well. “Thanks, brother. I have a date tonight, so lunch is perfect.”

  Stella stiffened next to me as we came to the split in the path, but when I looked up, she had her usual smile on.

  “Thanks for the run, Mark.” Her gaze moved beyond me. “It was good to meet the two of you finally. Mark talks about you all the time.”

  Lizbeth opened her mouth to stop her, but Stella had already disappeared around the corner by then. I blinked, startled by the sudden escape. A tiny corner of my mind yelled at her. What was with the quick departure? But I shoved that away. No, Stella and I weren't like that. We were friends, but that didn't mean she had to hang around when my family came here.

  Even if I wanted her to.

  The elation I'd felt at not being a third wheel slowly died. I steeled myself for putting on a happy-go-lucky lunch with my usual suave charm. It would be harder this time. Way harder. Because I hadn't been around them in weeks and I forgot how nauseating it could be to see JJ holding her hand. Her bright smiles at him. The way they mutually adored and took care of each other.

  Suffocating. Heart-wrenching. Soul-tearing.

  Because dammit, I'd fallen hard for my brother's fiancee months ago and no amount of online dating, mountain climbing, or business-crashing had changed that.

  And now she was his wife.

  13

  Stella

  Coward.

  The word circled my mind over and over while I attempted, for a third time, to watch a new thriller movie that had come out ages ago. I'd put it on my mental list of must-watch movies as soon as I saw the trailer, but that list had come to be more of an I must watch them within the decade kind of list.

  How had I gotten so behind? Movies were my happy place.

  Oh, yeah.

  I'd let life swallow me for a while.

  That had never been more readily apparent than now when I had ample time to live life but no idea how to do it. Running only occupied so much space, and hiding only created more opportunity for time. My thoughts spun as I set my chin on my knees, a bit haunted by both these strange circumstances and meeting Mark's family.

  Coward, came the voice again. Coward, coward, coward.

  Leaving so quickly had been the cowardly thing to do. I could see the upcoming invitation from Lizbeth. The startled look in Mark's eyes as I quickly ducked away. In fact, I'd wanted to stay. Wanted to get to know Lizbeth and JJ, the infamous people in Mark's life. Wanted to just be around other humans again. Meeting them had been . . . interesting.

  Or, should I say, Mark had been interesting.

  He'd stiffened like a board as soon as he saw Lizbeth? Or was it JJ? I couldn't be sure. There seemed to be troubled water under that bridge. His smile had instantly changed, though I doubted I would have noticed if I hadn't been watching him so closely. And why had I been in such a deep perusal?

  Nope.

  Didn't want to go there.

  My thumb hovered over my computer as I stared at the email I'd sent Grandma earlier today. She preferred texting but made email work. I'd told her my phone had been lost in a mountain stream and I needed to find another one.

  Grandma: My stocks are up! And I miss you. How is my girl? When do I get another visit?

  A warm smile found me.

  Stella: M
aybe in a month?

  * * *

  Grandma: It's never soon enough, Stella Marie. I miss you very much. Are you doing well? Are you happy?

  My gaze lingered on the last three words. Grandma always asked those kinds of questions. The hard, heavy-hitting ones. The ones that made your insides curl and your stomach ache because she did it so casually, so openly, that you couldn't even fake-laugh it off. Trust grandma to hit at the festering core of what made my heart feel so heavy tonight.

  Are you happy?

  How could I tell anymore? Although stressful, the last few weeks with Mark had been unbound in ways I'd never experienced before. Back home in Cincinnati, I'd thought I'd been happy. Maybe I worked a bit too much. Most of my weekends were me crashing hard, running last-minute errands, and failing to have a true social life that felt fulfilling and rejuvenating. Every now and then there had been a date. Mostly it was cruising NetMovies and falling asleep on the couch.

  But now?

  Now I felt something stirring inside me. Something that said all of that had been fake. Like a waking dream. A slow movement of existing, but not life. Not what Mark had. Mark didn't play it safe. He was unbound and a little wild and lived on just this side of is he crazy, or does he just not care? Maybe I played it too safe.

  Maybe I wasn't happy.

  With another sip of chocolate milk—my recovery drink of choice after a run, even though it had been six hours ago—I emailed her back.

  Stella: Happier now than I have been in a long time. I'll catch you up soon.

  Grandma: Sounds like you found a man.

  My heart did a double whomp.

  Stella: Maybe just some clarity.

  Grandma: And that's good too. Love you, my girl.

  Mark came back to mind, but I dismissed the ensuing race of my heart as the result of a rustle from outside. Instantly, my mind went to the mountain lion. JJ and Lizbeth had left three hours after arriving. I'd heard Lizbeth laughing as they walked back to their car, then drove away. Not long after that, Mark left with the roar of the Zombie Mobile as well.

  To his date.

  With night rapidly falling, and no one else in the mountain with me, an extra-large twinge of discomfort filled me. I quadruple-checked my little cabin. Door locked. Windows firmly locked. Drapes drawn. Phone and computer charged. Internet working.

  Safe.

  Except . . . it didn't feel like it.

  Being alone at Adventura in the daytime was one thing, but at night? That business was something else altogether. Dark mountains. Who knew how many kinds of animals—lots of them predators—foraging for winter. Were there grizzlies down here? I gulped and turned my attention back to the screen. Then I slammed it shut when I saw a montage of a girl running through a dark mountainside, pursued by someone with a flashing knife.

  “Nope!” I cried.

  The silence followed, and then I just felt silly. Mountain lions couldn't come through the walls, and the cabin was very sturdy. Still . . . I'd feel better in a bigger space where I couldn't hear every single sound. The rattle of a pinecone falling down the roof was loud enough to wake me up sometimes. Although I liked being set back in the trees, they sometimes rattled along the walls in the wind with a scratching sound.

  Mark's house would feel safer, came the thought.

  Although I vehemently shook my head to try to deny it, I couldn't deny that I wanted to be somewhere where I could smell him. For some reason, I knew it would comfort me. So would a much bigger space with a much louder TV and fewer branches scratching on the windows.

  I eyed the doorway. To get to the main cabin, I'd have to cross the dark porch, skitter through the woods, and then let myself into someone else's house. So very Goldilocks of me.

  Was I sure Mark was gone? Yes. There was no denying the crunch, pop, and snort of the Zombie Mobile. The path would be twenty steps at most. If I ran, it would be . . . maybe five seconds. A hint of daylight still lingered on the edge of the horizon, even though the rest of the mountains had settled into an inky band of black. The longer I waited, the scarier this night would get.

  Coward, I told myself again.

  Then I shoved my arms through my jacket, scooped my laptop against my chest, and darted into the night.

  My heart pounded against my ribs when I slammed Mark’s back door shut behind me, then locked it in relief.

  Safe.

  Mark had left a light on—no, he'd left all the lights on—which gave the place a warm, less-frightening look. As usual, stuff scattered in almost every available space. Living by myself meant an almost clinical feel to my world. The apartment I'd left behind rarely had a dish or spare piece of laundry. Grandma taught me to pick up after myself, which meant I washed the dishes as I cooked, rinsed as soon as I finished, and just reused the same one at each meal.

  Mark's disorganization had a sense of . . . home . . . to it.

  I checked the front door to make sure it was locked too—I'd open it again as soon as I heard the Zombie Mobile and slip out the back.

  For now, relief filled me.

  I set my computer on the couch, grabbed his remote, and turned the TV on. The noise filled the larger space, and when I wrapped a blanket around me, it felt like Mark sat nearby. One of his jackets hung over the back of the couch, so I grabbed it and took a deep breath in.

  Pine. Outdoors. All the manly things.

  All fear of the mountain lions disappeared, even when my computer chimed with a new email. When I clicked the icon, my stomach soured.

  Stella Marie,

  * * *

  Had some news from work today, my love. Your normal love of detail has failed you. Each business application for government support has been rejected. Yet, when I look over the paperwork, I find no fault with your work.

  * * *

  I do wonder what may have caused that?

  * * *

  See you soon.

  My eyes darted back to the door as I slammed the computer shut, breathing fast. The words my love ran through my mind like a ticker tape. The clearly sinister-sweet tone of his response. Of course, he had my old email—I should have anticipated that. Didn't think it was worth getting rid of that because too many important things came that way. Now I’d need to get rid of that, too.

  The terror of the night pressed back around me, but when I caught a whiff of Mark on the air, I felt better. Joshua had received word of the rejections, which meant he was probably still in Cincinnati. He wasn't here.

  Safe, I thought. I'm safe.

  But it didn't feel like it, alone in the dark mountains. Banishing the fear of Joshua, I scrolled through Mark's list of stored movies, sighed in relief when I saw one of my favorite light-hearted romantic comedies, then started it. Then I pulled one of his jackets all the way around me and settled into the smell of Mark with a relieved sigh.

  14

  Mark

  My thoughts were a jumble as I slipped out of the Zombie Mobile that night and headed for home. A breeze blew leaves around my feet as I crunched down the footpath, past trees, and toward my cabin. Shanti had been a refreshing change. Bright-eyed, filled with humor, and a sparkling wit I couldn't help but love, she was a date I'd been hoping to find a long time ago, but never could.

  And now, as all good candidates went, she was out of my life. On her way to see a friend in Seattle, and staunchly non-committed.

  Just like JJ and I had been once.

  “I'm a mover,” she'd explained with a wide, unapologetic grin that betrayed white teeth around her spiraling black hair. “I get itchy feet after just a few weeks, you know? But I figure I want to meet people as I head around. Want to see the world and all the people in it. A dating app is a great way to do it.”

  To my surprise, I wasn't as disappointed as I'd expected. Just as I wasn't as heartsick over seeing Lizbeth today as I thought I'd be. Tonight, I was more pained seeing their happiness together rather than her response to JJ instead of me.

  It felt like . . . something.
>
  The porch light was still on—I always forgot to turn it off—when I reached for the doorknob, then stopped. It wouldn't twist open.

  Locked?

  Blinking, I tried again.

  Definitely locked.

  Had I locked it on my way out? No. I didn't even lock it when I went out of town because who would come here? But it was definitely locked. Startled, I reached into my coat pocket to pull out my keys, letting out a breath of relief that I still had a house key on here.

  When the door swung open, I stopped a second time.

  A pile of short, golden hair spilled across the end of my couch. Stella. A blanket appeared to be snuggled up over her shoulder. Although a movie flickered across the TV, she was clearly missing all of it. My eyebrow lifted. Ah, one of Lizbeth's romances. She bought way too much of that garbage.

  I quietly shut the door as I puzzled out what had happened, then felt a stab of concern. She'd locked herself in my house. Had she heard from Joshua? Had that jerk of a boss called again? No, she had no phone, which we also had to fix. We'd get her a line under my family's plan. He couldn't trace that. Before I charged in there to demand answers, I forced myself to cool down. Waking her up wouldn't change anything.

  And I definitely didn't mind that she came here.

  My keys were silent as I pushed them back in my coat to keep them from rattling, and peeled it off. Stella didn't even stir as I carefully built the fire back up to warm up the chill in the air. Wind huffed by outside, bringing in a pile of clouds that could spritz overnight.