Page 14 of Coast

I didn’t look back. Couldn’t.

But behind me, I could hear the thud of shoes on the pavement as the men gave pursuit.

Desperate, I shot down a side street, knowing I was heading further away from my car—and the relative safety I could find within.

But if there was one hard truth I knew, it was no matter how athletic you were, men with their longer legs and stronger thighs could easily outrun you if the motivation was strong enough.

My motivation was stronger, though.

It was strapped to my chest. Whimpering, little knees pushing against my belly.

“Shh. Shh,” I whispered, frantic.

My heartbeat wasn’t even in my chest anymore. It was everywhere. In my throat, ears, the soles of my feet.

The road seemed endless.

Empty.

Unsafe.

But still, I ran.

Because stopping wasn’t an option.

I burst down the cross street like a bullet, nearly stumbling over a random cardboard box in my path.

The streetlights overhead flickered, disorienting me as I focused on putting one leg in front of the other.

Lainey’s weight bounced with every stride. My arms ached from holding her so tight. The straps were rubbing my shoulders raw.

A pathetic little whimper clawed at my throat, but I swallowed it down. There was no time for weakness or self-pity.

I charged up another street, not entirely sure where the hell I was or where the heck I was going. So long as it was away, I didn’t care.

Behind me—somewhere, I didn’t even know where—there were voices. Distant, winded. Getting closer?

Don’t look back.

My lungs screamed.

My side cramped.

But adrenaline pumped through me like jet fuel.

“Shh. Shh, baby. Please,” I pleaded with Lainey, who was gearing up to wail. I could just sense it. You would be able to hear her half a mile off if it got to that.

My eyes darted over every corner, every doorway. But there was nowhere open, nowhere safe.

I could hear footsteps thudding closer.

But it was right then I saw someone.

Finally, someone.

My stomach clenched, not sure who he was, if he could be trusted any more than the men hunting me down.

My gaze whipped over him. And every inch of the guy spelled out one word:trouble.From the tousled hair that toed the line between blond and brunette to the tattoos up and down his arms, hands, and neck. He was dressed in a wrinkled white tee, soft-worn blue jeans, slides, and some type of leather vest.

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