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Getaway: A Short Story
Crashing Back Down by Author Kristen Hope Mazzola, her debut novel, is now LIVE!! Don't miss out on this awesome read!
Goodreads: http://tinyurl.com/l8uqhjb
US: http://amzn.com/B00GG1KREQ
Canada: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00GG1KREQ
UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00GG1KREQ
Smashwords: http://tinyurl.com/SW-CBD
I can feel my body beginning to wake as gasoline drifts into my nostrils. Reluctantly, I stretch my stiff muscles out of their scrunched position. I let my eyes slowly open and adjust to the bright rest stop lights. I look over to find the driver’s seat vacant, the door open and Rob’s jean-covered backside pressed against the backseat’s window. I call out to him to find out what time it was through a raspy voice. It’s shocking to me that it is five in the morning. Rob’s been driving nonstop for the last eight hours while I dozed in and out, still shaky for our abrupt getaway.
I look down to my arm where the bruising is starting to show from the crazy man’s grasp. I shudder thinking back, it feels like years ago, not hours. I am so lucky that Rob found me in that hallway and that this bruise is the only sign I have of the incident. Rob finishes filling up his old F250, slides into his seat and lets the diesel engine hum for a few seconds. I smile at him as he takes my hand in silence, heading back to the high way.
The road is dark and damp, winding through the mountains heading towards our hideout. I let the rocking and humming lull me back into relaxation for a few moments. The radio is buzzing along with a sad country song that Rob is humming to as his cell starts to rings. He straightens up a little as he whispers that it is the detective back in Boone. My face grows cold and I stiffen, practically holding my breath while I listen to Rob answer the call. I hear him say that we were not in the county anymore just as instructed. He pauses listening for a few minutes running his tongue over his bottom lip. Rob’s voice is velvety as he starts into the story, how a few months ago one of my regular bar patrons had followed me home from the bar on King’s street and tried to assault me in my driveway. I can feel my throat tightening as the story continues to how I have been stalked and harassed ever since, how the cops told me that all I could do was have an order of protection filed and wait for him to come close again, like bait, just like tonight. He hangs up after a “yes sir, I will.”
I don’t ask about the call, just wipe a tear away from my cheek and apologize for ruining Rob’s life. He laughs at my foolishness and assures me that when he said his vows he promised to protect me. I curl back up into my seat being thankful that he was holding up to his end of the bargain.
The morning sun starts to creep up over the ridge in front of us in rays of gold and bronze, completely breath taking. I sigh in the beauty and straighten in my seat, wincing as my bruise brushes the armrest. Rob starts to slow our speed and heads for a pull off, finally coming to a halt and putting the Ford in park. He climbs out of his seat, heads for my door and helps me out into the sweet smelling morning air. He wraps his arms around me, smiling into the sun, whispering into my ear that this was the start of a brand new day, a new life, a new us. I lean into him, breathing in this moment, thankful for so many things and just one all at the same time: Love.