Run Away With Me : A fast-paced psychological thriller by Daniel Hurst (ebook reader ink txt) 📕

arrested him? What if he’s already on his way to the station for the hit and run? And what if I’m stuck up here for days now until somebody comes and gets me?

I’m trying not to panic for several reasons. One, because I don’t want to think of poor Adam being wrapped in handcuffs and whisked away to an interrogation room where he will be grilled by a couple of gnarly detectives who are eager to put him behind bars for the next ten years of his life. And two, because I’m petrified that any overreaction of emotion on my part might lead to me going into labour early and that would be an absolute disaster right now considering that I’m on my own in the middle of nowhere.

Telling myself for the hundredth time to stay calm and take a deep breath, I move away from the window and retreat back to the sofa. I’ve been up and down for the last half an hour checking to see if there is any sign of Adam’s car on the dirt track outside but every time that I look out, I am disappointed when I don’t see it. But it won’t do me any good to worry. I need something to take my mind off things.

My eyes land on the bookcase and I walk over to it, deciding that I might as well try and read a couple of pages of something because it’s either that or pace around the room some more. I run my finger along the spines of the books on the shelf and look for something that appeals to me, but there isn’t anything here that I would like to read. The type of fiction Adam’s sister likes to lose herself in is very different from the type I like. I’m more into gritty crime stories whereas she is a fan of much tamer fiction where the crimes never get more serious than somebody stealing a couple of cakes from the local bakery. I’m not sure why Kat enjoys those books so much. I like my fictional mysteries to be solved by somebody a little more grizzled than an elderly woman with six cats. I believe they call the genre ‘cozy mystery’, but whatever it’s called, it’s not the kind of thing for me.

Walking away from the bookshelf, I find myself back at the window again, but there is still no sign of my husband returning from his trip. Something has to be wrong. This has taken far too long.

Unable to stand being stuck helplessly inside the cottage for a minute longer, I put on my shoes and grab my coat, heading for the door and hoping that a hit of fresh air will prevent me from having a nervous breakdown.

I feel the drop in temperature immediately as I step outside the front door and look up at the grey sky. It looks like it might rain, but that’s the least of my worries. I can handle getting wet. What I can’t handle is doing nothing while my husband is potentially out there in trouble.

I ensure that I have my mobile in my pocket before striding away from the cottage and onto the dirt track that will lead to the main road. I’m not exactly sure how far I will have to go until I am able to pick up a phone signal, but I’m going to keep walking until I find one.

I sidestep several large puddles as I walk, as well as avoiding the muddier parts of the path, doing my best not to ruin my trainers or worse, end up face down on the floor after slipping and tripping. It takes me about ten minutes, but I’m finally approaching the gate that leads to the main road when I hear the car engine approaching.

I pause and keep my eyes on the road ahead, praying that it is Adam returning from the village. I won’t even be mad at how long he has been gone at this point. I’ll just be glad to have him back.

I keep watching and silently praying as the engine gets louder until I see the vehicle emerge from behind several trees and turn onto the dirt track towards me.

It’s Adam! He’s back!

I feel a sudden sense of relief at the sight of my husband driving towards me, and I wave him down as I walk towards the vehicle, not that there is any danger of him missing me as he drives up to the cottage.

He brings the car to a stop as he reaches me, and I rush around to his door as he winds down his window.

‘What are you doing outside?’ he asks me with a look of concern on his face.

‘I thought something had happened to you. You’ve been gone ages,’ I reply, starting to feel a few raindrops landing on my head.

‘Get in the car. Let’s get you back inside before it chucks it down,’ Adam says, and I’m only too happy to agree. I barely make it back into the passenger seat beside him before the heavens open and the rain comes down hard on top of this hill.

The windscreen wipers are working overtime as Adam drives us slowly back towards the cottage, and I want to ask him why he has taken so long to get back, but I decide to let him concentrate on the dirt track ahead until we are back inside. The main thing is that he is here and he seems okay, so I guess all my fears of him being arrested and thrown into jail were unfounded.

At least for now, anyway.

14

LAURA

It’s good to get some food into myself. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until Adam made bacon sandwiches but the smell, combined with the amazing taste, means I cleared my plate in no time. Adam must have been starving too because he has eaten everything on his plate as well, and it’s funny how having a full stomach can