Page 37 of Hit and Run
To Wren:I’ll be there.
I stand from the table, grabbing my coffee and purse.
“Cali, I gotta go. I’ll see you back at the house,” I call out to her as I walk out of the bakery. I hop in the car and head straight for the mall, calling Shade on my way.
“Hey, my sweet whiskey girl,” he says when he answers his phone. “What’s up?”
“I got a text from Wren,” I tell him.
“What did she say,” he asks.
“She told me to meet her at the mall,” I say. “I’m headed there now.”
“That’s awesome. I’m glad she finally reached out,” he replies. “Let me know what she says.”
“I will,” I promise and we hang up.
I pull up to the mall and park my car. Walking to Starbucks, I send Wren a text.
To Wren:Walking toward Starbucks now. Be there in 5.
Once I get there, I look around for her. When I don’t see her, I check my phone to see if I missed a call or text from her. Nothing.
To Wren:How far out are you?
I turn around and walk straight into TJ.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry TJ!”
“No, I’m sorry,hermosa,” he says. “Funny running into you here.”
“I’m supposed to be meeting with Wren,” I explain to him.
“Well, why don’t I wait with you,” he suggests. Something about him is different than the first time I saw him. I can’t put a finger on it, but I have a bad feeling in my gut.
“She actually just texted me telling me she can’t make it,” I tell him. “So, I’m just going to head home.”
“Ah,hermosa.” He grabs my arm and ushers me out of Starbucks. “Now, why would you lie to me?”
“Why do you think I’m lying?”
“I don’t think you are. Iknowyou are.” He laughs. “Stupid girl. It wasn’t Wren texting you. It wasme.”
“What? How did—”
“She thinks she lost her phone.” he shrugs. “I stole it, so I could get to you.”
“You have my number. You could call or text me whenever you want,” I say, confused.
“Not when you have your legs spread for some Savage piece of trash,” he whisper-shouts. There’s anger in his eyes. I’m trying to hold my composure, but with his grip on my arm and that gleam in his eyes, I’m freaking out on the inside. He shakes his head, regaining his own composure. “I’m sorry,hermosa. That was out of line. Now that I have you, everything will be okay.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and ushers me out of the mall. When we reach his car, he opens the passenger door, shoves me in and takes my purse that has my cell phone in it. He climbs into the driver's seat without my purse.
“Where’s my purse,” I ask him.
“You won’t be needing it where we’re going,” he tells me.
We drive for roughly thirty minutes before we pull up to a house. He gets out and walks to my side of the car, opening the door. I hesitate.
