Runaway Road

by Devney Perry

  Pop.

  The right front corner of the car dropped. The Cadillac jerked to the side and I didn’t have the strength to hold the wheel.

  I hit the brake, too hard. Damn it! I was panicking and losing control. The thwap of my flat tire filled the air right before the screech of metal on metal. A guardrail was kind enough to stop me from dropping into a ditch.

  The Cadillac came to a grinding stop. Dust billowed until the night breeze blew it away.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed. I was alive—if my heart didn’t explode. My hands were fisted on the wheel, frozen, but the rest of my body was shaking. I couldn’t seem to loosen my grip, so I left my hands white knuckled and let my head fall forward.

  I closed my eyes, letting the adrenaline settle. When the shaking eased and my head stopped spinning, I let go of the steering wheel and pushed out of the car on unsteady legs.

  With one hand on the car for balance, I made my way around the trunk to the other side.

  “Shit.” The Cadillac was smashed against the guardrail. There were streaks of red paint from where I’d dragged alongside it.

  I hurried around the car again, this time to inspect the front. The tire was flat and the rim rested on the asphalt.

  “No.” I ran a hand through my hair. I must have hit a nail. The night was getting darker by the second, and though I could change a tire in the daylight, doing it at night was not a challenge I wanted to take on.

  “This is why we have phones.” I slammed my palm into my forehead. I should have bought a flip phone for emergencies. “Damn it.”

  And there wasn’t a car in sight. I’d gotten my wish for a deserted road. How long had it been since I’d passed a town? I’d driven through a small town earlier but it had still been bright outside. It was at least an hour’s drive behind me.

  “Ahh!” I screamed to the sky. Not even the birds seemed to care. Which meant if I was kidnapped and murdered along this road, no one would be around to hear those screams either. “Fucking hell.”

  I stomped to the driver’s seat and got in to put the convertible’s top up. When it was secure, I collected my purse, slammed the door and popped the locks. Then I went to the trunk, digging into my suitcase for a pair of tennis shoes to trade out for my flip-flops.

  “I should have stayed in Pennsylvania,” I muttered as I set off down the road. I was hoping that another town or a house would appear if I kept on the path forward. There wasn’t much behind me.

  The farther I walked from the car, the further my stomach sank. That car was my safety blanket. Even in Boston, when it had been tucked away in the garage, I’d always known it was there, protected and safe.

  Now it was on the highway, alone and vulnerable.

  So was I.

  I stole glances over my shoulder until it disappeared from my sight and I began counting steps to occupy my mind. When I got to five hundred, I was nervous. When I got to a thousand, I was so freaked out by the impending darkness, I stopped walking.

  There was no sign of a town close. If there were homes nearby, they were hidden in the trees.

  “This is crazy.” I spun on a heel and ran to my car. I was sweating and out of breath when it came into view.

  I ran faster.

  When I reached the door, darkness had nearly descended and I could hardly make out the handle. If I had walked another five hundred steps, I wouldn’t have made it back before nightfall.

  I collapsed into the driver’s seat, locking myself inside as my heart pounded.

  What had I been thinking? Why would I leave this car? I’d sleep here tonight and flag down a passing car tomorrow. Because I wasn’t leaving this car again. The only time we’d part ways was when I handed the keys to Karson in California.

  If he was even in California. I’d find out when I got there.

  The air was thick and humid outside my window. Sweat ran down my cleavage and soaked the hair around my temples and forehead. I turned on the car, cranking up the AC until I wasn’t dripping. Then I cracked the windows and shut it off, pushing my seat back as far as it would go to stretch out my legs.

  Sleeping in the Cadillac was more comfortable in the backseat, something I knew from years of practice, but sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight no matter where I rested. And from here, I could see outside better and hop out quickly if a car approached.

  Hours passed. Stars lit up the midnight sky. Thousands of them hovered overhead, and like I’d done as a teenager, I wished on the brightest. Lost in their random pattern, I jumped when a flash of light caught my eye from the rearview mirror.

  I sat up, spinning around as blinding headlights raced my way. I flew into action, turning on the Cadillac’s interior light before getting out. I hurried to stand by the hood, inching back until the guardrail brushed my calves. Then I waved my arms in the air like a lunatic as the other vehicle approached.

  I squinted at their headlights, using one hand to shield my eyes as the other waved. The car didn’t slow. The hum of its engine seemed to grow louder. Did they not see me? Or were they going to pass me by?

  My stomach dropped as the lights got closer and closer with no sign the vehicle was slowing. My arm was still raised in the air but I’d stopped waving.

  They were going to keep driving. Asshole.

  Given my luck today, that was about par for the course. I was ready to give them the finger too when tires squealed and the engine’s loud downshift filled the air.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, dropping my hand.

  A truck came to an abrupt stop right beside me, and the window lowered. My eyes were still filled with spots from the headlights, but I squinted hard, trying to make out the driver.

  “Need some help?”

  It was a woman’s voice. Thank you, stars. One of my wishes was to be rescued. Another was for my rescuer to be female.

  I stepped closer to the truck. “I have a flat and am squished into the guardrail. It’s dark and I didn’t want to try and change it myself. And . . .” I sighed. “I don’t have a phone.”

  “Damn.” She stretched the word across two syllables. Day-um. “Well, Summers is about ten miles up the road. Want a lift?”

  Ten miles? I was glad I’d turned around. “Is there a tow truck in Summers? I’d rather not leave my car out here.”

  “Cohen’s got a tow. Want me to call him?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you so much.” My eyes were finally adjusting to the dark. As she took out her phone, the screen illuminated the cab briefly, and I was able to see her face.

  The woman was likely in her late fifties, but with the dim light, it was hard to tell. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were slight. Her hair was either a light blond or gray. She pressed the phone to her ear and faced me, giving me a kind smile.

  Of all the people in the world who might have stopped, I’d hit the jackpot. I stepped closer until I was standing right outside the open passenger window. The scent of lemon bars wafted from the truck and filled my nose.

  My stomach rumbled. The chips I’d inhaled hours ago had long since burned away.

  “Hey, Brooks.” She didn’t introduce herself to the person on the other end of the phone. “I’ve got a gal here who needs a tow. About ten miles north of town, a mile or so before you hit my place.”

  Her place? So if I’d gone the other direction, I’d have landed myself at her house? Damn it. From now on, I was paying better attention to my surroundings as I drove. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been trying to work myself out of a funk.

  “Sure thing.” She hung up, setting her phone in the console. “He’s on his way.”

  “Thank you.” Would it be weird to give her a hug?

  “Want me to wait with you, sweetheart?”

  My heart warmed. “No, you go ahead. Thank you.”

  “It’s late. I’m on my way to the motel to deliver some lemon bars to my sister, Meggie. I bake when I can’t sleep and she works the evening and night shifts. You come on over after Brook
s gets you and that car to town. Stay the night in Summers.”

  “I think I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  “Good. My name’s Sally. And you are?”

  “Londyn McCormack.”

  “Fine meeting you, Londyn.” She lifted a hand. “See you soon.”

  I waved, stepping away from her truck as she put it in drive. As quickly as she’d come to a stop, she was off, racing down the highway and leaving me in the dark.

  I got back in my car, swatting at the bugs that had latched on to my skin and hitchhiked their way into the car. Then I waited, watching the clock as ten minutes ticked by. Then fifteen. At twenty, I was starting to wish I’d hitched a ride with Sally after all, but then two headlights came around a bend.

  I got out and waited in my same spot by the hood, only this time, my own headlights were shining too.

  The tow truck came to a slow stop, the engine running as the driver opened the door and stepped onto the road. His dark, tall figure was shadowed as he walked through the streaming light.

  “Ma’am.” His hand lifted as he stepped close and his features came into view. “Heard you needed a tow.”

  I swallowed hard. Was I asleep? I had to be asleep. Sally was a dream and so was he. I had no experience with tow truck drivers but surely this wasn’t what they all looked like. Otherwise the women of the world would be constantly popping their tires.

  He shifted, blocking out more of the light with his broad shoulders. The move gave me a clearer view of his face and highlighted the line of his straight nose. Stubble dusted his strong jaw. His arms were roped with muscles so defined I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up my car with his bare hands to set it on the tow’s flatbed.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Yes.” I blinked, forcing my gaze away from his soft lips to return his handshake. “Sorry. I, uh . . . have a flat and can’t change it.”

  “Hmm.” He walked to the car, peering down the side pressed against the guardrail. “Looks like you got more than a flat.”

  My eyes drifted to the man’s ass. Day-um. As he turned, I forced my eyes to his face. The last thing I needed was for him to leave me on the side of this road. “I scraped against the guardrail as I skidded to a stop. I don’t even want to think about what the side of my car looks like.”

  “Probably not pretty. But we’ll get it to the garage and take a closer look.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled. “I appreciate you coming out here so late to help me.”

  He chuckled. “When Sally calls, it’s best you answer, ma’am.”

  I cringed at the third ma’am. “It’s Londyn. Spelled with a y.”

  “Londyn. Pleasure.” Oh lord, that voice, so rich and smooth. I hoped his name was something plain like George or Frank. Something to combat the perfection. “I’m Brooks Cohen.”

  Not George. This was definitely a dream.

  Chapter Three

  Brooks

  Tonight wasn’t the first time I’d gotten a tow call from Sally Leaf well after midnight. Normally, she needed me to tow her out of whatever ditch she’d managed to drop her old truck into. The woman drove like speed limits were a minimum and lines on the highway a suggestion.

  Regardless, whenever she called, I came running. I’d hauled my ass out of my bed, then dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I’d hurried the few blocks from my house to the garage, where I’d swapped out my silver Ford for the tow rig. As Sally had promised, almost exactly ten miles out of town, I’d spotted the car sandwiched against the guardrail.

  A gorgeous car. And a goddamn knockout owner.

  Londyn. Spelled with a y.

  Her Cadillac was loaded onto the flatbed and she was riding shotgun with a purse clutched in her lap. The sweet scent of her hair drifted my way each time she made the slightest movement to shift her handbag or cross her legs.

  Thank goodness it was dark and she couldn’t see my wandering eyes. They’d skimmed her from head to toe, taking in that long blond hair as it draped over her shoulders and the swells of her breasts. Her loose jeans couldn’t hide the rounded contours of her hips or the firm lines of her legs.

  My mother would be ashamed to know I’d checked out her ass more than once.

  I ducked my head, sneaking a quick sniff of my arm. Oh, hell. I smelled like sweat and grease. I’d showered before bed, washing away a day of grime from the garage and the stink of the five miles I’d run after work. But after loading up her car in the sticky heat, I’d melted right through my quick swipe of deodorant.

  “You just passing through?” I asked as I rolled the window down a few inches. I knew the answer to that question. If she lived around here, I’d know it. Summers was my hometown and I’d lived here all my life. After thirty-three years, there weren’t many people I didn’t know. But we’d ridden two miles in uncomfortable silence, and I was desperate to ease the tension.

  “Yes. I’m on my way to California.”

  “From?”

  “Boston.”

  I whistled. “That’s a long trip.”

  And a dangerous one for a woman on her own. I didn’t like to think about what might have happened had she gotten a flat somewhere other than outside Summers, West Virginia.

  “I’m in no hurry.” She sighed, toying with the strap on her purse.

  I sat a little straighter, pretending to glance at the car in the rearview, instead checking my face. My hair was a goddamn mess. I ran a hand through it twice, taming down the dark blond sticking up on top.

  Shit. When was the last time I’d cared about my hair?

  “Where are you taking my car?” she asked.

  “To my garage. I’ll take a closer look at it tomorrow, but when I loaded it up, I saw some damage to the wheel. The side panel’s pretty banged up too.”

  “Damn it,” she grumbled, dropping her head into her hand. “I can’t believe I did this.”

  “Accidents happen.” They were never expected and never convenient.

  “This one shouldn’t have,” she muttered. “I don’t suppose you do any custom car work? I had the entire thing restored and need to get it fixed.”

  “I’ve done some.” More than some, but I wasn’t going to promise I could fix her Cadillac until I got a better look at the damage. “Like I said, let’s see what we’re dealing with tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” She leaned against the door, her frame slumped. She looked like she was about five minutes from falling asleep.

  “Where you staying?”

  “Sally mentioned something about a motel.”

  “I’ll drop you there, then take your car to the shop.”

  She hummed her agreement as we reached the edge of town. I slowed as the highway turned into Main Street, then veered off to park in front of the Summers Motel.

  There were fifteen rooms in total, all situated in a horseshoe around an office in the center. Guests mostly parked in the loop, but the tow truck was too large for the space so I stopped us along the sidewalk.

  As expected, Sally’s truck, dented and dinged, was parked beside the office. Inside, she was laughing with her twin sister, Meggie. The two were eating something, probably a dessert of sorts. Sally was always experimenting with cookies and cakes. Those two would load themselves up on sugar for a few hours and chase it down with a gallon of coffee.

  No surprise that Sally was rarely seen in town before noon. Meggie owned the motel and had worked the night shift for as long as I could remember. She said it was so her employees could have the normal hours. My theory was that she and Sally were born night owls.

  “Here we are.”

  Londyn looked over, giving me a hint of a smile. “Thank you. I’ll come by the garage tomorrow.”

  “No rush. It’ll take me some time to figure out what we’re dealing with here. I can call you if you’d like. Tell you when to come down.”

  “Okay—no, wait,” she grumbled. “I don’t have a phone.”

  “You don’t have a phone?”

  “No.”


  My jaw dropped. “You’re driving across the country without a phone? Ma’am, I know I just met you. But it’s—”

  “Not safe. I’m aware.”

  I opened my mouth, a lecture ready, but stopped myself. For now, she’d be at the motel and I could reach her here. Besides, she wasn’t my concern. This woman was a stranger. She’d be out of Summers the minute her car was ready. So why did the idea of her traveling alone leave me with such an unsettled feeling in my gut?

  “I’ll call the motel in the morning. The garage is about three blocks away. You feel like taking a walk before I call, come on down.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, opening her door to step down.

  I unbuckled and jumped out of the rig, rounding the front to make sure she made it to the ground from the tall step. “I got the door.”

  “Thanks.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as I stepped close to slam the door behind her. “See you tomorrow.”

  I followed her to the sidewalk. “Have a good night.”

  Londyn waved but stopped midstep, gesturing to the Cadillac. “All my things are in the trunk.”

  “That’s no problem.” I walked to the flatbed and vaulted up. “Toss me your keys.”

  She dug them out of her purse, but instead of throwing them over, she lifted one of those long legs and hopped right up next to me. “I got it.”

  We shuffled to the back, where she popped the trunk. It was packed with two suitcases and a matching duffel bag. The print matched her purse too. My mom had the same luggage, something Dad had bought her for an anniversary gift last year.

  That was not a cheap print. Given that her car was worth twice as much as mine, I wasn’t surprised she had designer bags too.

  She went to take a suitcase out, but I took it from her grip. The slight brush of her fingers against mine was like a firebolt running up my hand. Londyn froze, her eyes widening and cheeks flushing. A surge of heat ran through my blood.

  Who was this beautiful woman?

  Londyn broke eye contact first, dropping her gaze to the trunk. I hoisted out the backpack and strung it over a shoulder. Then I pulled out both suitcases, setting them on the flatbed as she locked up the trunk.