Run So Far

Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2017 Elizabeth Monvey

ISBN: 978-1-77339-412-1

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Stephanie Balistreri

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

RUN SO FAR

Elizabeth Monvey

Copyright © 2017

Chapter One

The night air sliced through Kyle’s jacket with ease. He shivered, hunching his shoulders and digging his hands deep into his pockets in an effort to conserve what little body heat he had left. Longingly he thought of the heater in his car, which he’d abandoned a few miles away in a parking lot, wondering if his desperate plan to run had been wise. January in Maryland was always miserable. Rain turned to ice and snow, freezing temperatures without any break between winter storms. Now he was kicking himself for not grabbing his coat … and gloves … and a hat … and a scarf. Hell, the whole damn closet full of ski paraphernalia left behind in his nice, cozy home seemed to mock him.

The lights of a truck stop appeared down the ramp he walked and relief surged through him, quickening his step. That was what he needed, some breathing space. A moment to clear his head and think things through, figure out if he had the guts to ruin his family.

What felt like hours later, yet was probably only thirty minutes or so, he pushed into the warmth of the bustling diner and almost collapsed. Turning into a human Popsicle was exhausting and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He’d once read a story about a person sitting down at the top of Mt. Everest and slowly freezing to death, and now he completely understood how that could happen. He made a mental note never to go hiking in the Himalayas.

He sat down at the counter, trying hard to contain his shivering. He wanted to order something hot to drink but his vocal chords needed a moment to thaw out. A waitress hurried over to him with a cup and a carafe of hot coffee.

Good Lord, you look frozen, she said as she sat the mug down in front of him and filled it up.

He nodded and wrapped his hands around the ceramic.

Milk? Sugar?

He shook his head no.

The waitress patted his arm. You get warm and when you want to order something just give a holler. My name is Alice.

He wanted to praise her with gratitude but the shivering had reached its zenith. Little by little warmth replaced the cold in his bones as his body temperature rose. The shivering stopped, allowing him to breathe easy and take a sip of the black coffee. He tried hard not to think about how close he might have come to death.

Of course, that was still a possibility if his cousin ever caught up with him. He would want that secret to stay silent, and if that meant Kyle had to be buried with it, so be it. Which was why he had run and now sat in a proverbial crossroad of what to do next. He’d seen enough cop shows to know not to use his credit cards or his cell phone and to dump his car, which he’d done. The hundred bucks in his pocket would have to hold him over until all the answers to his questions suddenly appeared.

Divine intervention, however, was slow in coming.

You okay, kid?

Kyle jumped and turned to look at the man next to him, who had asked the question. For a moment, Kyle’s breath caught in his throat, but this time not from the cold. The stranger eyed him over the rim of his coffee mug, startling green eyes surrounded by dark lashes, the kind of eyes one could fall in lust with in a hurry. Sharp angled planes gave him a tough look, bold strokes prominently displayed from the too bright fluorescent shining overhead. A short beard angled from mid-cheek to neck while the disheveled hair on his head curled slightly over his coat collar. It softened him out just a little, but only a fraction.

Uh, Kyle said, shutting up to clear his throat. Yeah. Okay now.

How far did you walk?

Two miles, I think. Give or take a hundred feet or so.

The man set his cup down and picked up his fork. Anyone tell you it’s winter out there?

Kyle snorted. Believe me, I had no plans to brave the weather when I woke up today. Just sorta … happened.

The man resumed eating his sunny side up eggs and crisp bacon. Kyle’s stomach rumbled so he signaled to Alice. The waitress hurried over, her pad and pen at the ready for his order.

You want some breakfast, sweetie? she asked.

Yes, please. What he’s having.

Kyle pointed to the handsome stranger’s plate. Alice wrote it down and winked at him before striding away to place the order.

So did your car die? the man asked.

No, Kyle replied.

The man’s dark eyebrows drew together. You walked here deliberately?

Kyle shrugged. It’s a long story.

Isn’t it always? The name is Delaney Vance.

He held out his hand and Kyle took it. The first contact sent a tingling jolt up his arm as an unusual awareness coursed over him. Their gazes locked together and for a brief moment, Kyle felt like he was free falling. Disconcerted, he let go of Delaney’s hand and rubbed his palm over his knee, hoping the rough jean material would dissipate the odd sensation.

I’m Kyle. Kyle … Smith.

One eyebrow shot up as disbelief blanketed his face. Right. Call me Del.

Alice came bustling back and placed a plate of hot food in front of him. Kyle focused on eating because he sure as hell didn’t want to focus on the magnetically handsome man sitting next to him. He had enough problems without adding overwhelming attraction to the mix.

His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, so he shoveled runny eggs into his mouth. As much as he tried to ignore the big man beside him, his senses seemed acutely aware of every movement he made.

So where are you headed?

The food in Kyle’s mouth turned to sawdust and he had to force himself to swallow it. Where was he headed? How the fuck did he answer that?

I don’t know, he replied softly.

You running away?

Yeah. Guess so.

Del nodded thoughtfully. Can I ask how old you are? Eighteen, nineteen?

Twenty-four, Kyle said.

Kyle chuckled at the surprise on Del’s face.

Yeah, I get that a lot, he said. Sucks right now but I suppose I’ll be glad of my youthful appearance when I’m fifty. You know, I was at a bar once and the bouncer told me that I could call the cops if my license was real.

Did you?

Of course. My uncle—

Kyle shut his mouth abruptly. Shit, he was just about to admit to something he shouldn’t.

Your uncle what? Del probed.

Nothing. Never mind.

Thankfully, Del let it go. "Well, considering how old you