The Man Who Owned The Town

Chapter 7: The Run

Lovely’s bedroom was a mess.

Drawers were pulled open. Clothes covered the floor. She moved fast, stuffing hoodies, jeans, and T-shirts into her backpack without folding them. Her hands shook so badly that the zipper kept getting stuck.

Joy paced near the window, chewing her bottom lip. She had not packed a single thing. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself.

“What about Garry?” Joy whispered. “Are we leaving him?”

Lovely did not look up. She forced the zipper closed.

“Garry will be fine,” she said, her voice flat. “That man wants us. Not Garry.”

Joy stopped pacing.

“What if he catches us?” Her eyes filled with fear. “What if he kills us, Loveleen? Have you even thought about that?”

Lovely finally looked at her. Her eyes were red and glassy from crying and lack of sleep.

“If we keep standing here arguing, he’ll find us and kill the s**t out of us anyway,” she snapped.

Her voice broke at the end.

She took a shaky breath. “So please, Joy. Stop asking questions and help me.”

Joy swallowed hard.

Her eyes dropped to the black duffel bag on the bed. Michael’s duffel bag. The one filled with money. It was still half-full, but it already felt heavy enough to ruin both their lives.

“So tell me,” Joy said quietly. “Are we really going to use his money to leave this town?”

Lovely stared at her.

“Do you have another option?” she asked.

Joy looked away. “I don’t want us to drown even deeper in debt, Lovely.”

Silence filled the room.

Rain tapped steadily against the window. The clock on Lovely’s wall ticked loudly.

1:20 a.m.

“What if your parents come back and find us gone?” Joy asked.

Lovely shut her eyes for a second.

“Can you please stop with the questions?”

Joy pressed her lips together and nodded.

Lovely pulled a black hoodie over her head and slung her backpack over her shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

Both girls were dressed in black, black hoodies, black jeans, and sneakers. Trying to disappear into the night.

Lovely grabbed her backpack. Joy picked up hers, then took a deep breath before lifting the duffel bag filled with Michael’s money.

They slipped quietly through the house.

Garry was still asleep in his room, his door half-open. He snored softly, completely unaware that his sister was about to run away.

Lovely paused at his door. Her hand rested against the frame.

For one second, she wanted to wake him up. Hug him. Tell him she was sorry.

But then she forced herself to walk away.

Outside, Ravencrest was dead quiet.

Only rain. The distant buzz of streetlights. Water running along the road.

Down the street, parked beneath a broken streetlight with his headlights off, Brad sat in his car. His phone glowed in his lap.

Brad: They left. Heading to the station.

A reply came almost immediately.

Michael: Keep your distance.

The train station was thirty minutes away on foot.

Lovely and Joy walked fast with their heads down. The duffel bag banged against Joy’s leg with every step. Neither of them spoke.

There was only the rain, their heavy breathing, and the sound of sneakers hitting wet tar.

By the time they reached Ravencrest Station, their hoodies were soaked through. Their fingers were numb from the cold. Their bodies trembled from fear.

The station was almost empty.

Two old men slept on a bench beneath a weak yellow light. A woman sat nearby, trying to calm a crying baby. The platform lights flickered above them.

Joy kept looking around, turning her head every few seconds.

Lovely stood near the tracks, staring into the dark where the train was supposed to come. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure everyone could hear it.

Then she felt it.

That awful feeling.

Like someone was watching her.

Slowly, Lovely turned her head.

Near the ticket office, beneath a dead light that buzzed every few seconds, stood Michael.

Arms crossed.

Black T-shirt clinging to his body from the rain. Black cap pulled low over his eyes.

He was not smiling.

He was just standing there.

Staring at them.

Paul and Raymond stood behind him, both with their hands in their pockets.

Lovely’s blood ran cold.

For one second, her heart stopped.

“Joy…” she whispered.

Joy looked at her. “What?”

Lovely’s eyes stayed locked on Michael.

Then her voice came out louder, rough with panic.

“Joy… run!”