Page 11 of Return to Me Always

He had to be kidding. "You can't be serious."

His eyes capturing mine, he said, "I am absolutely serious."

I couldn't believe what he was suggesting. "What's your name again? Taylor?"

"Tyler."

"Well, Tyler, I think you are absolutely insane to even think that's an option." No way was I going to run.

His eyes narrowed. "Okay, Ryder, how about this? You go ahead and turn yourself in. The nearest police station is four blocks that way." He pointed down the street.

Suddenly, the screech of a siren blared in my ears, and bright lights flooded the street.

"Ah, bloody hell," said Tyler. "Get out of the car. Now!"

I scrambled out the door, and Tyler was right there, grabbing my hand and taking off.

"We're running?" I managed to gasp.

But he didn't answer, just pulled me down a dark alleyway and sprinted, practically yanking my hand off, his grip was so strong.

He didn't stop. We turned down one street then into another alley. Then another street. And yet another alley. And again. And again. He kept running, never letting go of my hand.

My lungs burned. My legs were on fire. My heart was going to explode.

In the best of times, Ihatedrunning. And this... this whole thing just made it all worse.

"When can we stop?" I panted.

"Soon."

He wasn't even breathless. What the hell? Was he superhuman or something?

More dark alleys and dimly lit streets. Up and down curbs. Through an open soccer field. Another alley. And across a bridge.

Finally, he ended our sprint. And from the looks of it, we had ended up in a not-so-great area.

"Do you even know where we are?" I asked, barely able to breathe.

"Just need to go straight ahead." He pointed to a massive apartment building a few buildings down.

"Is this where you live?" With my legs shakier than jello, I struggled to keep up with him as he began walking.

"No. My mate lives here." He looked around, distracted. "I want to grab a few things that I left the other day."

"What do you mean?"

"Shh." He stopped and turned his head.

The sound of sirens blasted to life nearby, and I held my breath.

Not again. Please don't make me run again.

But the noise faded, and Tyler grabbed my hand once more, propelling me forward and into the building. There was an out of order notice on the elevator—sigh—so we took the stairs up four flights, dodging trash on the floor.

At the top of the steps, Tyler opened the door then glanced around before we walked to the end of the long hallway to an apartment. After unlocking the door, he ushered me in first. I felt kind of awkward barging in on his friend, but there was only silence inside.

"Is your friend home?" I asked, checking out the shabby interior that resembled a typical bachelor pad—messy with empty beer bottles and food wrappers everywhere.

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