by Wylder Stone
Exposed On the Run
On the Run Series, Book 2
Wylder Stone
Contents
Read Wylder Stone
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Author Biography
More from Wylder Stone
COPYRIGHT © 2021
Wylder Stone
Exposed On the Run
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.
EDITOR: Jenny Sims
COVER ARTIST: 5 Pines Publishing
FORMATTING: 5 Pines Publishing
Read Wylder Stone
On the Run Series
* * *
Witness On the Run
Exposed on the Run
Vengeance on the Run
Danger on the Run
Deception on the Run
Stranger on the Run
Reckless on the Run
Hostage on the Run
Murderer on the Run
Betrayed on the Run
Corruption on the Run
1
It had been more than twenty-four hours on the road, driving straight through the night and day. Trista didn’t know how Owen did it or why he did it. He had to be exhausted at this point.
Unclear where they were, Trista assumed they were somewhere in the south, gauging by the sun’s position. Which really meant she hadn’t a clue at all because the sun moved east to west in the north too. With little to no conversation and nothing to occupy her time, she had studied the scenery, shadows, and direction the wind blew at any given moment. Her life had been reduced to something between a weathervane and human compass. And she’d failed at mastering both.
She lost track of how many miles they had traveled, and the green freeway signs announced them passing through towns Trista had never heard of, the population usually next to nothing. They were careful to stay off major roads and out of big cities, just passing through most towns and only stopping when they absolutely had to.
Something had changed between her and Owen. Guilt led her to believe it was her fault, that she made him angry one too many times. He had been quiet before but never cruel. It was like he wanted her to be as angry with him.
Why did she care so much? Owen was her husband’s hired muscle not all that long ago, her bodyguard and nothing more. Trista shouldn’t care what he thought of her, but she did. From the moment she died in the public eyes, she’d become alone – Owen her only friend. Now she didn’t even have that.
The car slowed, bringing her out of her deep thoughts. They were approaching another all-night drive-through restaurant – she was getting sick of fast food – serving breakfast day and night. That was great since she didn’t know if it was closer to the dinner hour or breakfast. It was just late or perhaps really early, and somewhat dark, meaning dusk or dawn and she was ready to get out of the car and never get in one again. If Trista never saw another drive-through menu for the rest of her life, that would be a bonus.
“Where are we?” she asked.
His reply was simple, vague, and cold. “Almost home.”
The voice carried over the speaker at the menu board answered the question more directly when an unmistakably Southern twang asked them what they’d be enjoying. She’d called it – they were in the south. He quickly placed their orders and they were out of there in a handful of minutes and back on the road – story of her new life.
A large mountain-shaped sign on the side of the road read, Welcome to Corner Creek, Utah Okay, she hadn't called it afterall. They weren’t in the south at all – the lady with the twang at the drive through was just an coincidence. It took a while to see any sign of a town as they continued down a fairly desolate road with mostly views of mountains between tree’s and shrubbery, but when it appeared, the town was oddly similar to the last one they had called home. Small, quaint, charming.
“Corner Creek, huh? I’ve never been to Utah,” Trista offered, trying to break the silence.
Eyes glued to the road, he grunted and said, “Quiet. Not a lot of people. They sort of stay to themselves here. Easy to disappear in a hurry if needed.”
He had no intention of pouring salt on an already weeping wound with the last comment about needing to disappear in a hurry, but he could tell it stung. Probably for the better.
“Is that like a warning or a reminder, Owen?” Trista asked in a huff.
“Is what a reminder?” He thought it better to play thick and let it go. He wasn’t trying to toss daggers or start a fight. Just state facts.
“Never mind.” She crossed her arms and turned her focus to the darkness outside her window. “I’ve never been to Utah either, but I’ve always wanted to.”
“You’ve always wanted to go to Utah?” she questioned. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever heard say that.”
“No. Not really. I really have no desire to be here at all, but it’s part of the plan so we grin and bear it. I hear Park City is nice, though.”
“Park City? I’ve heard of it too. Are we nearby?”
“No. Not even close.” He deadpanned, causing her to chuckle.
“So no Park City either.”
“Not a chance.”
The sarcasm and hint of silliness in Owen’s words brought a sense of calm. She watched him and smiled at the glimpse he gave her of who he had been only days before. Relaxed, a little more carefree, and not so rigid, it was like a weight had begun to lift. Trista hoped that meant they were close to their final destination and all the running had been the pinch between them. More than that, though, she hoped that this Owen was sticking around.
At the other end of town, just like before, the buildings were replaced with homes that became more and more sparse the farther they went. There was a glow to her right, in the far distance, that appeared to be water reflecting the moonlight. It looked like the ocean but she knew better – they weren’t near the ocean. That feeling of heavy angst lightened just a little more when they pulled onto a small, seemingly private road in the direction of the water.
The road was lined with a few trees and tall grass all the way to the only house on the road. It was small, sat on stilts well above the ground, and had a deck that wrapped completely around it. In the dark of night, it was hard to see the color, but it was light and welcoming. There was another small ground level building to the right, perhaps a large shed or small garage, and carport-like parking right under the house itself.
Tall grasses and a rocky bluff in the distance made it hard to see their surroundings, but once they climbed the steps to the deck, in the warm night air, it all came into view and took Tri
sta’s breath away. A lake in plain sight, within walking distance from where they stood, just to the south. She noticed they had gone over several little bridges they had driven through town and even beyond as they approached this house. There were little waterways beneath them and she wondered if they were all from this large body of water or if there were more lakes to be discovered. There were few houses around them, all a decent distance and appeared to be similar in style, far above the ground. She wondered if they had similar views this grand.
On the left side, just beyond the small bluff, there was a small dock floating, inviting her to visit while her worries were at bay. What was better was the small boat tethered to the dock and a couple of kayaks hanging on the side of a small shack on the land side of the dock. Trista already liked this place.
Following Owen inside, she was pleased to see the interior didn’t disappoint. Large windows on the south and east side of the home boasted amazing water views in what appeared to be the main living area. A nautical-like theme was carried throughout which made sense, given their surroundings. It was warm, light, and cozy. A place Trista could really relax and get to know herself all over again. It almost felt like a do-over – a second chance, maybe.
“This is a nice place,” Trista said, looking around, taking it all in.
“In the daylight, you can see nothing but water in the distance.”
“Oh, I already see it. It’s amazing.” She stood at the large window, staring off in the distance. Then it hit her, “I thought you said you hadn’t been here before.”
“I said that?” he questioned.
She shook her head at his evasiveness and roller her eyes before getting lost in her surroundings.
With just the sight of her mesmerized stare, he knew what she was thinking. Trista would like to paint the very scene she was taking in. He felt a hint of guilt. “Yeah, I guess you can, with the full moon and clear sky.”
“Is this your place, or do I already know the answer to that one?” Trista joked.
A short reply in a monotone voice was all that he offered her, leaving the rest to mystery. “No.”
Nodding, acknowledging his answer, Trista continued to roam around before his answer sunk in, stopping her in her tracks. “Oh, my God! We aren’t squatting, are we? Is this illegal?”
A look of annoyance or smug amusement made up his expression, and on Owen, it was hard to tell the difference. “No. We have permission to be here.”
“Then whose house is it?”
“The less you know…”
“Right. The less I know, the better…or is it safer? Oh, who cares!” It had been a little premature to think they were making progress and getting whatever their relationship was back on track. He was still playing the old games.
Storming off toward the hallway, where the bedrooms had to be, she stopped briefly and asked, “Which room is mine?”
“Whichever one you want,” he fired back in a growl.
Eyebrows raised, Trista adopted that smug look thing he had been doing and worked it. “Which is…bigger?”
“The one at the end of the hall. Why?” he questioned, trying to figure out where her tantrum was going.
Owen walked to where the hallway began just in time to watch Trista slam the bedroom door, so hard the walls shook at the end of the hall. “Oh…that’s why.”
She heard him through the door and added an extra hmmph to her fit when she fell back on the bed. The hot and cold that was Owen was raking her last nerve. Of course, Trista made a big mistake in Bull Trail, and she regretted it. At some point, though, they needed to move on and find common ground, or at least, find a way to be civil. It really shouldn’t have bothered her what he thought – he was just the bodyguard. But it did.
2
By day, the Corner Creek house was even more delightful. Sunlight streamed in through the walls of windows, giving a light airy feel. Outside, the sounds of nature and warm air cloaked her with a sense of nature’s comfort. Whatever that meant. It was just what came to her while she stood at the railing on the upper deck. Trista wasn’t a nature kind of girl. She hadn’t been to a place like this before and deeply regretted it. She’d been missing out.
Maybe this was the good that was to come from her journey. Discovering new things, challenging her comfort levels, and peeling back layers to discover who she really was. It wasn’t like Trista was going to go canoeing or take up fishing, but she could certainly get used to the simplicity this place seemed to offer and its glorious beauty. Change took time though – maybe fishing and canoeing was coming.
When Trista walked back inside the house after exploring her surroundings as far as the bluff, she noticed something she didn’t notice before. Sitting on the kitchen counter was a smoothie maker along with her plant based protein powder. Owen – but when – and how?
This is where things got really confusing for her. Owen acted like a complete ass most of the time. Then he did this? As confused as she was by his behavior, Trista didn’t let it overshadow the excitement she felt. It really had little to do with the stuff and everything to do with the man. Under all of that hum drum beefcake was a sweet and thoughtful man.
Footsteps on the deck alerted her to Owen’s presence. She ran through the house, out the front door, and plowed into his hard brick wall body and hugged him. He stood there for a minute, unsure what to do with his dangling arms before he decided to hug her back.
“Thank you,” Trista whispered.
“Well, I’d hate to get all this way just to have you die from eating animal bi-products.” He threw his fist in the air, in a completely out of character gesture, and hollered, “Long live the vegans!”
The laughter his foolishness incited led to a snort that earned a chuckle out of him, too. Trista made her way to the Adirondack chairs on the deck overlooking the lake view. She gestured for him to join her. And he did. The small table between them had a beer on it. Some things just don’t change.
“Beer, huh? What time is it, anyway? I wasn’t gone that long, was I?” Trista said, referring to her walk around the property. “And by gone I mean walk.”
“I know. I was watching you.” That statement was more revealing than he meant for it to be. “And it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.”
“Touché.” She left the watching comment alone, uninterested in rocking the proverbial boat. “Look, I’m sorry…about last night. I was rude. I know you’re just doing your job, and I’m not making it easy. I’m just…I don’t know. I’ll do better…promise.”
“It’s fine. This is hard stuff even when you’re used to it. You’re not used to it. I get it. We just need to work together, not against each other.” He couldn’t help but get caught up in his own words again, taking them somewhere his mind didn’t belong.
“Teamwork.” Trista tossed up a hand for a high five.
He obliged, albeit reluctantly, and awkwardly slapped her hand with his own. “Something like that. You did hold your own pretty good the other day – that was teamwork I guess.”
“Thank you. Wow, I think you just high-fived me and gave me a compliment.”
He grinned and said, “Don’t take that as an invite to cause trouble. Just want you to know your hard work paid off a bit. You know, until I got there and saved your ass a little bit.”
“Oh, okay. I get it – pretty good for a girl, you mean?” Her voice was laced in sarcasm.
“You said it, not me.” He put his hands out in front of him in surrender. “It’s been a few days – you ready for your next lesson?”
“Now?” Sitting up straight, Trista was surprised. Maybe they were getting better, now that they were settled.
“You have anything else to do?” he asked.
“Touché – again – Force.”
3
Days became weeks, weeks became months and there was still no sign of Cesar. He was MIA – not a single trace. His goons hadn’t found Owen and Trista. Maybe they chased the burner phones to Maine and gave up when the
y led to nowhere.
It seemed time really did heal all wounds. Owen was still guarded, when it came to Trista, but not as much as he had been. Corner Creek had become home, and though Trista missed her son and sister, her living arrangements were tolerable. Owen had surprised her with a video of Mason walking, then one of him starting to talk. It was far from perfect, but they were all safe, for now.
A routine had developed between Trista and Owen. Morning workouts were still on the agenda, followed by self-defense in the late afternoon. Trista had even learned to fire a gun, practicing often in the secluded area where they lived. She was a pretty good shot. The two even did all of their shopping together, each week, and enjoyed the many festivities the small town hosted. They genuinely enjoyed each others company.
Trista was getting stronger, physically, and with that strength came a certain confidence that had been missing before. It looked good on her. She was changing, discovering who she was – or at least who she wanted to be – and figuring out what she was made of. When all of this was over, Trista would be unrecognizable, and not in a material or physical way.
Beer was a new dietary staple, and she even ate meat, though Trista clung to that plant based protein powder in her smoothies still. Old habits die hard. She got used to the Utah way of life, learned to fish, and got dirty once in a while. Though she was embracing her life as Berley Rose, Trista still had nights full of tears and a broken heart. The difference was, she didn’t live in that emotional place, just experienced it and moved on.
