Sweat burned her eyes and dripped down the side of her face, but Jill kept running. She ignored the burning in her calves and put one foot in front of the other as she worked her usual figure eight through the small development of townhouses hers was part of. All day long, as she"d tried to focus on the job, images from the night before had popped into her head. Not the fun part of last night, the terrifying part. The man Gizmo called Asshole holding a gun on the two of them, the terror that flashed through her, leaving her body hot then cold in turns. The urge to flee and never see Gizmo or any of those people ever again. Even now that last thought made her stomach churn. Could she walk away and never see him? Yes. She could. It would be painful, but she had no doubt she could. Again, the
