There was a tiny window in the bathroom. I thought about pushing it open and scrabbling out into the rain before rushing through the mud and into darkness. I might be able to flag down a car and hitch a ride to Knoxville. A few of my friends from college lived there now, and they’d let me crash on the couch. But that would mean leaving here without Owen, the whole damn reason I’d come sneaking back into Carlsville in the first place.

After I heard the door slam shut, I poked my head out of the room to see Franklin pacing back and forth, a frown pulling down his chiseled features. He was handsome, I had to admit to myself, even if intimidating. There was something powerful about him that just radiated off his body, and the muscles in his arms were sculpted and smooth, so unlike most of the guys I knew.

“Is he gone?” I asked quietly.

When he glanced up at me, his eyes were a storm cloud. He edged sideways to the window and peered out into the rain. “For now, but I don’t think for very long. He’s gone back over the bar, and he’s talking to some of his friends.”

“Well, maybe that’s it then,” I said, heart lifting.

Franklin shook his head. “He saw that water stain on the bed from where you were sitting, and he sure as hell doesn’t trust me. We need to leave. Now, Rosie.”

My heart began to race, my palms went clammy. “They’ll see us if we go out there.”

Franklin continued to frown out the window. “Yep, they’ll see us. But I’m a good driver. I can lose them. Come on.”

“Weren’t you drinking at the bar?” I asked, grasping for any excuse at all not to leave this small sliver of safety.

“I only had a couple shots of whiskey, and whatever affect they had on me went right out the window the second you walked through that door.”

I shivered at his words, not sure I should take them as a compliment or an insult.

He shut his suitcase and hauled it from the floor, reaching out for my hand. For a split second, I hesitated. This guy could be anyone. He could be a murderer or a rapist for all I knew. He was passing through the middle of nowhere, drinking in a rundown bar on the edge of town, and staying in a dingy motel that smelled of mildew and dust. Even though he’d helped me, I didn’t know a damn thing about him, and what I did know didn’t shed particularly good light on him.

Except that he’d helped me.

“I’m not going to let them hurt you, Rosie,” he said. “You can trust me.”

I met his eyes. They were clear and certain, completely the opposite of Scooter’s glassy gaze. He’d gotten me alone in here, and he hadn’t tried a thing. All he’d done was protect me, facing off against my ex when he came banging on the door. Before I could talk myself out of it, I took his hand and let him pull me through the motel room door.

As soon as we stepped outside, I heard shouts from Bear’s Bar. One of Scooter’s guys must have had his eyes on the place. Fear gripped my heart, but Franklin didn’t waste any time. He ushered me over to a sleek black car and threw open the passenger door before jogging to the driver’s side. He slid in and turned on the engine with a smooth grace that suggested he’d done this kind of thing before.

Moments later, the tires squealed on concrete as we spun out of the parking lot. Behind us, Scooter’s truck ramped up speed, trailed behind by his boys. I spun in the leather seat and gripped the headrest, watching as the headlights grew in the rear window, so bright it was as if I was staring into the sun.

“I suggest you buckle up,” Franklin said in an easy voice that didn’t match the intensity of the situation. I didn’t know how we were going to outrun Scooter. For one thing, this guy wasn’t from Carlsville, and he wouldn’t know the roads. But more than that, Scooter was the kind of guy to press his foot to the floor and never let go until he’d run his enemy off the road.

Swallowing hard, I turned around and stretched the seatbelt across my body. As soon as the click echoed in my ears, Franklin shifted the gear stick and the car threw forward like a space rocket. Franklin spun us around corner after corner of the back country roads, and in the side view mirrors I could see the headlights of Scooter’s truck falling further and further away.

After several moments of tense silence in the car, Franklin swerved hard, throwing me against the door and knocking the wind out of my lungs. Braking fast, he pulled the car behind a dark house hulking on the side of the road and cut the engine before dousing the lights. My breath came out ragged as I watched incoming trucks down the road. Even though we sat behind the house, we still had a view of the passing traffic so we could see the exact moment when Scooter approached.

Every thump of my heart echoed in my ears. I was certain that Scooter would figure out what we’d done. He’d never been the smartest tool in the box, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. If a car disappeared off the road, it had to go somewhere. But as his truck passed the house, it didn’t slow down at all. And soon, his whole entourage had zipped by without even the slightest of glances in our direction.

Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against the sleek console and tried to steady my breathing. Stars dotted the edges of my vision, and blackness threatened to creep in the corners. My skin felt hot and prickly, and the sound of engines roared in my ears even though all the trucks had disappeared down the road.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Franklin said quietly as he turned the ignition. “Take deep breaths. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Nice and slow.”

I followed his instructions as he pulled the car onto the road and aimed it back the way we’d come. Slowly but surely, as the mile markers whizzed past, the humming in my ears began to fade. I pulled myself away from the console and leaned back into my seat, glancing at Franklin as he drove. Streetlights flickered onto his face, highlighting his chiseled jaw and stony eyes. All through this, he’d stayed calm and in control, as if he’d done this a million times before…

“Thanks,” I said.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah, a little,” I said with a small smile. “We lost them, huh?”

“That we did,” he said with a nod before turning the car onto a gravel drive and cutting the engine. I glanced around us, at the towering trees bending in the wind and rain. We were miles from where we’d been before, still on the outskirts of town but far enough away from the motel and the bar to be safe. But that didn’t explain why he’d pulled off the road.

“Why’d you stop the car?” I asked, unease beginning to take shape in my stomach once again. I couldn’t help myself. After everything that Scooter had put me through, it wasn’t very easy for me to trust men, especially not random strangers I’d met in a bar.

“Well, for one, I don’t know where we’re going.” Franklin twisted in his seat to face me. “I’m happy to take you to your house, but I’m guessing you can’t go back there right now. That’s the first place he would check.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “I don’t live in Carlsville. Not anymore.”

“Okay, where do you live?” Franklin asked. “Does he know where it is?”

“No, he doesn’t have a damn clue,” I said, turning to stare out the window at the darkness. There was a heavy lump in my throat I couldn’t get rid of. No matter how many times I swallowed, it was still there, an ever-present reminder of what I’d done and everything I’d left behind.

“Good.” His warm hand enveloped mine, and I couldn’t help but feel comforted by it, even though I didn’t know this man at all. My whole body still shivered from my cold damp clothes and the fear of the last couple hours. “I’ll get you home. Okay, Rosie? Just tell me where to go, and I’ll take you. This will all be over very soon.”

Sighing, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I couldn’t look at him or else I knew the tiny control I held over my emotions would wither away. He had no idea. It just wasn’t that easy. My life never had been.

“I can’t go back to my house yet,” I said, squeezing my eyes as tight as I could. “I can’t leave here without Owen.”

“Owen?” I could hear the confusion in his voice, but I still couldn’t meet his eyes. “Who the hell is Owen?”

“He’s my son.”