Renegade by Debra Driza

Author:Debra Driza [Debra Driza]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-03-24T04:00:00+00:00

Two hours later, I’d ditched the bike in a back alley where hopefully no one would question its presence for at least a few days. After cutting through backyards on street after street, sticking to the abandoned areas and listening intently for the sound of a chase behind me, I finally let the stiffness in my shoulders uncoil a little. I’d ditched the LED lights long ago, and traded the coat for an old brown sweatshirt I found in the unlocked backseat of a car.

I prayed those tiny changes would be enough.

A car raced up the street behind me, but I remained calm and tucked my chin to my chest. Just an ordinary pedestrian out for a walk. The green map unfurled before I could even think, GPS.

Thankfully, the blinking orange dot that represented my position wasn’t too far away from my final destination.

4.23 mi.

Apart from a few barking dogs and occasional lights inside houses, there was no sign of life on the streets ahead. But as I walked, the trees grew more plentiful, the houses bigger. The scent of rain, grass, and pine filled the air.

The yards grew bigger as well, with sprawling grass lots and few fences. Long driveways led up to two-and three-car garages. I passed one home, then two. Suddenly, I was at the end of a long, curving driveway. One freshly painted, detached garage sat about twenty feet down, then the driveway curved to the left and ended at another two-car garage, which was attached to a house.

A forest-green SUV waited outside.

This was it. This was Steven Jensen’s address.

Initiate scan.

Details autofocused in front of me, enlarging without any prodding. My eyes swept over the first object, then moved on to the next. In under one second, I’d processed all the visual information before me and stored it for safekeeping in my memory.

Green Mercury Mountaineer, license plate DVU234. Trilevel home, eight front-facing windows, one front door, one garage door accessible from front yard. Three pine trees, one blocking full view of front door, two planters, filled with assorted perennials.

So I was here. Now what?

As I chewed on my lip and studied the house, a soft click broke the still night air. My head whipped up toward the sound. A lone car was parked across the street, six houses down. I’d been so caught up in studying Jensen’s house, I hadn’t thought much of it.

The click had been the driver’s-side door opening.

On instant alert, I watched. Ready to pounce. Until the make of the car and the identity of the tall, lean figure emerging from it hit me at the same time.

Jeep. Hunter.

An initial burst of joy, immediately chased by uncertainty. Logic cemented my feet to the ground. We’d been apart less than twenty-four hours and yet it felt like years. Three, Holland—look at everything that had happened in that short span of time. Everything I’d accomplished. Solo. Could I have done any of that with him by my side? I knew all too well that the responsibility of keeping him safe was a terrifying burden.

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