The Chevelle’s interior smelled like leather, freedom, and faintly of Nick. Leah rested her hands on the steering wheel, right where she’d seen his big hands sit a dozen times before.
If she thought she had escaped him and left him in the bedroom, she’d be wrong. He was right here in the car with her, his scent all around her. His skilled fingers had worked on every part of this car, changing sparkplugs, filling it with premium gasoline, tightening nuts and bolts.
Nick left his mark on everything he touched. This car, the house…
No, Leah thought as she rolled the keys over in her hand. There’d be no escaping him. Not now. Not ever.
Not even when she was a hundred miles down the road.
~from Runnin' Out of Road