MONROE

Monroe looked once again in her rearview mirror to see if anyone

was following her. It had been three days since she’d escaped.

Three long and hard days, but she wanted to put as much distance

between herself and him as she could. Monroe hadn’t slept a lot the past

three days; she’d been too scared.

She had been on the road for a total of twenty-six hours since her last

stop for gas and a nap. Monroe could only manage to sleep a couple of

hours without starting to panic. The thought of him closing the distance

between them scared her.

Stopping several times hadn’t been part of her plan, but she couldn’t do

anything about it. Exhaustion weighed down on her bones as she sat for

hours driving down highways. She had almost fallen asleep a couple of

times but had managed to push through it. She’d had no choice.

Any time she stopped somewhere, she made sure to keep her sweatshirt

hood up to hide her skin. Her once smooth and silky skin was now marred

with bruises, cuts, scars, and scabs. Monroe had made the mistake of not

putting her hood up the first time she’d stopped to get gas and had seen

several people staring and whispering.

She had quickly left after that, afraid someone would call the cops, and

he would find her.

A shiver ran through her body at that thought. She prayed he wouldn’t

easily find her, but couldn’t know for sure. Monroe had paid attention to

him talking about his work, trying to pick up good information–he had

apparently hidden several people he knew–so when she left, she used the

techniques she had learned to hide herself so he couldn’t find her. Or she

hoped he couldn’t.

She just hoped it paid off. When she’d first left, she had bought new

clothes and dumped her old ones. She hoped he hadn’t placed any trackers

in her car, and had looked once she’d gotten to the first motel, but she didn’t

really know what she was looking for.

She had never heard him talking about tracking people before like that,

but she knew he was good at what he did. It was his specialty, placing

tracking devices everywhere and them being undetected. Monroe hadn’t

used her car in over five, almost six, years, right before she moved in with

him, and had never seen him touch her car.

She could only hope he hadn’t bothered to place one on her car. The

idea of him tracking her through her car made her stomach churn. She

couldn’t think about that because her mind could go into a dark place fast

and she was driving right now.

She didn’t have enough money to get rid of her car and buy another one.

No one would give her enough money for her car. It was old and soon to be

unreliable.

Blinking, Monroe rubbed her eyes quickly and looked at the exit. She

needed to stop soon for gas and figure out where she was. If she even had

enough money to get gas.

She had been saving for a year in hopes she would have enough to

leave. She barely had enough but she was making it last as long as she

could. Maybe she could stop in this town and get a job if they had any

available. Monroe didn’t have a college degree and only had her GED.

Sighing, she pulled down a road and continued to drive. Monroe didn’t

know where she was. All she had was a map for Ohio, but that didn’t do her

any good because she wasn’t in Ohio anymore. She knew that for sure.

All she had was a burner phone and she hoped it still had a battery that

worked. Maybe she could look up where she was, but she didn’t know if

that was possible. It wasn’t anything fancy and she didn’t know if it had a

GPS signal to track where she was.

Monroe wasn’t good with technology. When she’d bought the phone,

she had asked the clerk for a prepaid phone that couldn’t be tracked and the

person had given her this flip phone, something she was familiar with.

Pulling over, Monroe put the car in park and grabbed the burner phone.

Crap. It was dead. Just her luck. Nothing was going in her favor right now.

She searched the small bag that held the charger cord, pulled it out to

inspect it, and realized she didn’t have the plug to put it in her car and

charge it.

Monroe sighed and leaned her head against the steering wheel.

Everything in her body ached as she leaned forward. The last time she’d

stopped at a gas station, she’d looked at pain meds, but couldn’t afford

them.

What was she going to do now? She didn’t have a lot of gas left in her

car and she didn’t think she had enough money to get more.

Maybe she could stop at a convenience store and ask if there were any

places hiring so she could earn some money. She needed to keep moving

but Monroe knew it would take a while to earn enough money to do that.

Not many places hired when a GED was all the person had, and they

didn’t pay well, either. Maybe she could get a job at a diner and they could

pay her cash under the table. It would probably be a sketchy diner, but she

would do it if it meant getting paid.

Monroe didn’t know how long she would have to run and stay hidden.

Would she have to do this for the rest of her life? She didn’t know if she could do that.

Pulling her hood down, she let out a sigh. It was hot in the car but she

didn’t want to turn it back on for the AC. It would waste gas she would

need once she decided to do next.

All Monroe wanted to do now was find a safe place where she could

rest and not have to worry about anything, but it didn’t seem like she was

ever going to be able to do that. It had only been three days, yet it felt like it

had been three years.

Exhaustion weighed her body down and she tried to relax in her car.

Stomach growling, she wrapped her arm gently around her stomach to stop

it. She hadn’t eaten in a while, and she didn’t know when she was going to

eat next.

Did she have enough money to get food and gas?

No.

She didn’t and she already knew that, but she wanted to pretend she had

to think about it. Give her something else to think about that wasn’t her

stomach growling or how thirsty she was.

Would she die of dehydration and starvation? How long did it take for

that to happen? Monroe hadn’t drunk or eaten anything in over a day, trying

to save money for gas. Like that did her much good. She probably could

have gotten a bottle of water or something to eat at the last gas station she’d

stopped at.

Monroe didn’t know how much gas ten dollars was going to get her in

this city. A strangled cry escaped her lips at the thought of the city. She had

no clue where she was and that worried her.

Everything was starting to crash down on her. The reality of escaping

him and driving to who knows where was settling in. Oh gosh. What was

she going to do? How was she going to earn money when she was on the

run? She wasn’t cut out for this type of life.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she tried to ground herself.

She needed to get a hold of herself. There was no time for panic attacks or

worrying about things. She needed to get moving.

Monroe forcibly relaxed her body and let her arms rest on her lap. She

needed to find a gas station, get gas, and ask if anywhere was hiring. Would

they hire her with all the bruises or turn her away?

A shiver ran through her body as she let out a shuddering breath. It was

so hot. She knew she shouldn’t have worn all this clothing, but she wanted

to cover up so no one saw the bruises and called the cops.

Before she could think about the answer, knocking on the window

pulled her from her thoughts. Turning her head, she stared at a figure

towering over her car. Heart rate picking up, it took her brain a couple of

seconds to realize it was a man and he didn’t look happy.

Her eyes quickly scanned his features and took in his short brown hair

and beard, dark jeans, and deep red button-down shirt before her reflexes

triggered and she scrambled as far away from the door as she could get.

Large men with muscles were bad news.

Opening her mouth, she let out an ear-piercing scream and shied even

more away from the window. Who was that? Could he have already found

her and sent someone after her? To keep her here until he arrived?

Her eyes went wide, and she stopped breathing as she stared at the man

on the other side of the window.

MONROE

Monroe sat frozen in her car, not breathing, her hands starting to

shake. Shit. She was about to have a panic attack.

So many things were running through her head as she stared at him. Did

he know Jared? Had Jared sent this man to hurt her? Put her in her place

and tie her up until Jared got to town and forced her to leave with him?

Black started to cover the corner of her vision and her eyes burned with

tears. Everything was getting to be too much.

“Breathe,” the man said.

His voice was surprisingly calm and tender. Why would he be telling

her to breathe? Wouldn’t he want her to pass out so he could break into her

car and kidnap her? Her eyes went even wider at that thought. Shit. She

needed to breathe so she didn’t pass out. She didn’t want to be taken.

“Breathe,” the man said again, but this time it was more of a command.

Her hand flew to her neck and she winced as it connected with a bruise.

Monroe’s eyes stayed on his as she started to claw at her neck. She needed

to breathe but couldn’t. It was like her brain couldn’t comprehend enough

to send a signal for her lungs to breathe.

The man by her window bent down and while it eased some of her

worry, at the same time, it sent her into an even worse panic. Was he going

to pick her lock and break in?

“Can you focus on my words?” he asked softly as if he was speaking to

a child.

Monroe stared into his eyes and took a little gasp of breath, her hand

tightening around her neck. Wincing, tears sprung to her eyes as the pain

radiated through her neck. She needed to stop doing that, but she couldn’t.

She didn’t think she could take her hand off her neck.

“Just listen to my voice and try to calm down. Everything’s okay.

You’re okay. Take a deep breath in. Hold it for a second. Let it out now,” he

spoke as he walked her through breathing.

Monroe took a deep breath in again but started to cough, which resulted

in her breathing picking up again. If she couldn’t breathe in deep, how was

she going to breathe at all?

“No, no. Don’t panic. You’re okay,” the man said. “Look at me.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, instead looking at her

other hand that was laying on her lap, shaking.

Waves in her vision started to appear and her head lolled to the side for

a second.

“Look back at me,” the man commanded. “That’s it. Good girl. You’re

doing great. Now, I want you to take a small breath in. Not too big.”

She tried to take a small breath in, but her lungs seized and she shook

her head.

“No, look back at me. Focus on my voice. Small breath in. Hold it. Now

let it out. Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

Monroe’s eyes closed as she focused on his voice. It was slowly starting

to calm her down.

“Can you unlock the door?” he asked.

Her eyes went wide as she pushed her body further away from the

window. She flinched as one of her bruises pushed up against the center

console. Pain radiated through her whole body as she moved too fast.