I inhaled a shaky breath. We’d done it. We’d run. But where were we going? I lifted my head and smiled tremulously at my brothers. Neither smiled back.
Liam looked a lot like Richard, with sandy blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a stubborn chin. At five, he could negotiate a deal like a pro when David wasn’t in the immediate area to intimidate him. Most of his deals involved a later bedtime or more dessert. Aden, at four, had my mom’s coloring and looked more like me with medium brown hair, deep blue eyes, and a dimple. When given the chance, they both had a smile that could light a room. I wondered if they would ever smile again after the scare I gave them.
Initially, my driving almost killed us. I didn’t know how I managed not being pulled over. Since squealing out of the garage in a cloud of blue smoke, I’d tried keeping a low profile, sticking to the back roads, and stopping only when absolutely necessary.
I twisted in my seat. Empty snack bags littered the seat between the two. “Are you guys hungry for some real food?”
Liam looked out the window at the red and white paint-faded diner across the blacktop expanse. Large windows dominated the front of the squat building, allowing the diners to look out.
“Is it safe?” Liam asked.
“I hope so, buddy. I need a break. My eyes keep closing on me.”
He nodded and reached over to unbuckle his brother. I let him help Aden while I fumbled with my own seatbelt. I would never again take a good night’s sleep for granted. My head felt fuzzy, and my ears rang. I got out of the car and stood for a moment, waiting for a wave of dizziness to pass.
When I opened the back door, they spilled out of the car in a rush. They ran around chasing each other in the open parking spot next to ours. I let them. I’d parked us in one of the furthest places from the door. Two parking spots away, a motorcycle sat parked in the otherwise empty part of the lot.
I leaned against the closed driver side door and watched them have their fun while I let the fresh summer air clear my head. After a few minutes, I pushed away from the door and had to pause until another wave of vertigo passed. I eyed our destination. It suddenly seemed like a long walk. With a sigh, I herded them toward the diner.
As we neared, I noticed a man. He sat in one of the booths against the large, front windows. Dressed in faded denims and a t-shirt, something about him caught my eye.
He had cropped his dark hair so short I could see his scalp on the side of his head. A five o’clock shadow covered his strong jaw and upper lip, making him look a little scruffy despite the haircut. He had nice ears—why did I notice that?—and my stomach did a tiny flip just staring at his profile. I rolled my eyes at myself.
How could I stand in a parking lot window-shopping a cute guy while on the run from some fanged monster who had kept me locked up for four years? I needed to get a grip on life. Sleep deprivation had robbed me of common sense. Yet, I didn’t look away.
The man sat slightly bent over his plate, eating a hearty breakfast. It was just after three in the afternoon. His long legs folded under the table with just barely enough room, and his t-shirt hugged his biceps as he reached for his drink. A black leather jacket lay on the seat next to him and matched the sturdy black work boots he wore. Then I saw the helmet set on the table near his coffee. The owner of the motorcycle.
When we were within a few feet of his window, he glanced up and froze when our gazes locked. The fork he held remained suspended in the air part way to his mouth. My stomach started going crazy doing little flips, and my heart stuttered out an odd pattern before returning to normal.
It was a moment more before he moved again and brought the fork the rest of the way to his mouth. He finished chewing and lifted the coffee to his lips, not once looking away. I forgot to breathe as he studied me with an unnerving intensity. It vaguely reminded me of how Frank watched me at dinner, minus the creepiness...and the kicking. The man held me spellbound. I couldn’t look away.
If not for the boys holding my hands, I would have stopped to stare some more. As it was, they continued to pull me forward past the window. When our eye contact was broken, so was this man’s hold on me.