I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville 3)

But the keys weren’t there. She glanced at the clock on her cell and knew she only had a half hour to meet up with the running group. They started at exactly 6:30 A.M., and if she weren’t there, they left without her.

“Where’re my keys?” Confirming they weren’t in the bowl, she checked her purse, rattled it, turned it upside down. No keys. What had she been doing last night?

Ah, the date. It had been a long day, she’d been tired, but she’d agreed to a date with Alex. He was tall, good-looking, and an ambitious agent. He was the kind of guy most women wanted to date.

She’d wanted to like him, should have liked him, but trust was going to take more than a New Year’s resolution.

She moved toward the large couch where she’d eaten dinner, reheated Chinese leftovers, after her return to the town house. She pulled out the cushions. Nothing. Irritated and a bit desperate, she ran her hands along the creases of the couch. Her fingers brushed metal and she pulled out her keys, half relieved yet puzzled that she’d lost them.

Leah had her faults, but she was painfully precise. How could a date have thrown off her routine so completely? Maybe it wasn’t the date but the text that had proved to be a false alarm? Was her steady, even life so fragile that she couldn’t handle any deviation?

Damn.

She snatched up the keys and hurried to her car. The morning chill cleared her head, but she questioned again this resolve to get fit. She turned on the ignition and switched the window defroster on high as she watched the frost on the windshield slowly melt. “Crazy people run marathons. They’re insane. Misguided fools. Sane people are asleep in bed right now.”

The ice on the windshield yielded a large enough hole for her to see well enough so she could drive. She threw the car in gear and made a run for it.

As she made her way down the dark streets, the lost keys jangled in her mind. Before Philip had died, missing keys would have totally freaked her out. She’d have panicked and called the cops, certain he was behind the mishap. She’d have called her aunt, hysterical.

Her heart raced. “Philip is gone.” He was dead. Buried right here in Nashville.

He wasn’t messing with her. She’d simply misplaced her damn keys.

Leah released the breath caught in her throat as she wove her way through town toward Centennial Park. She’d joined the running group when Deidre had reached out to her. She’d already decided to give up smoking as a New Year’s resolution, so how much worse could it be to add running? Famous last words. Moments like this, she questioned her sanity. Later, after the run and a hot shower, she’d feel a boost of pride and hope, two unfamiliar emotions that had become so addictive.

She spotted the line of ten cars parked at the park entrance. Most people still remained in their cars, staying close to the heat as long as possible. She parked, checked her watch, and realized she had only seconds to spare. She reached for her water bottle and discovered she’d forgotten it. Left it by the back door. The missing keys had distracted her. Thrown her off-track. Damn.

She pulled her ignition key from the ring, tucked the remaining keys under her mat, and got out of the car. The morning blast of cold air hit her hard and she reminded herself yet again that physical fitness was a good thing. She locked her car, unlocked it, locked it again, and checked the door handle to make sure it was secure.

She moved toward the park bench where the runners all assembled. Today was a short run. Five miles. They were all slowly building up their distance. For the best runners in the group, five miles was easy, so they focused on time. She focused on finishing, surviving.

“Leah!”

Leah turned toward the familiar female voice and smiled.

Leah, for the most part, still didn’t reach out to a lot of people. When Philip had been at his worst, he’d terrorized her as well as the people around her. She’d learned to keep her distance. During the last four years, she should have felt free to make new friends, but she hadn’t. She’d focused on school and work. She’d kept her life as small as possible, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. Logically, she understood Philip was forever out of her life. She shouldn’t worry. But fear and apprehension would not release their grip.

“Deidre.” Leah rubbed her gloved hands together, anxious to get started.

“Week three of training and you’re hanging tough.” Deidre grinned as she stretched her arms.

“Keep telling me why I’m doing this.” The cold air transformed her breath into visible puffs of air.

“Oh, you love it.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m still waiting on the love.”

Deidre laughed. “As I remember, it didn’t take much to convince you.”

Leah smiled as the other members of the group assembled around them. There were about a dozen today. The day after the New Year, the group had boasted over twenty, but some of the resolutions had drifted away in the following days.

“How did your date go last night?” Deidre asked.

Leah shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” Time to breathe a little life into her nonexistent love life. “I’m out of practice, and it showed. It was all I could do to carry on a conversation.”

“Why?” Deidre looked puzzled. “You’re smart. You have a wicked sense of humor.”

“Not the best dater, I guess.”

“Why?”

A weight settled in Leah’s chest, just as it always did when anyone mentioned her love life. Most times, she could crack a joke or change the subject, but Deidre had a keen eye for details not so easily brushed aside. “I had a bad marriage. A while ago.”

Deidre’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s over and done.”

“How long ago?”

This was the part when Leah would sound odd. “Four years.”

“Must have been really bad.”

Leah shrugged.

Deidre rolled her neck from side to side, and for a moment the veil hooding her bright gaze dropped. “I’ve told you a little about my divorce. Like I said, it isn’t pretty. Worse than I’ve really let on to most people.” She released a sigh. “I keep wondering when I’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Leah had constructed an impregnable wall around herself that kept her safe but alone. “I’m sure you’ll see better days soon.”

Deidre leaned against her car and stretched her hamstrings. “How long did it take you to recover from it?”

“It’s a work in progress. But I’m getting closer.”

A frown furrowed Deidre’s brow. “Sounds like it was really rough.” She let the words dangle, a fish hook in choppy water.

Leah tugged on her gloves, hating the sudden chill racing up her spine. “He tried to kill me.”

Deidre’s face paled, and she leaned in a fraction. “What? God, Leah, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Talk of her marriage created the sensation of standing on the edge of a cliff. She didn’t want to fall into the past

.

“Where is he?”

“He vanished after the attack but crashed his car in South Carolina a few weeks later. He’s dead.”

Deidre’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

Leah’s smile held no joy. “Karma’s a bitch. I don’t dwell.”

That wasn’t true. The past had a tight hold on her. She still kept the journal she’d started when Philip had stalked her. The journal had been a necessary evil in those days. In fact, it had been her entries that had got her the restraining order. No reason to keep it any longer, but she did.

“My ex-to-be is having trouble with the divorce,” Deidre said. She pointed to a long, deep groove keyed into the side of her car.

Leah frowned, remembering the flat tires she’d dealt with during the months after she and Philip separated. “You okay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, but I’ll be glad when we sign the papers in a couple of days.”

“Stay strong.” The platitude buzzed false in her ears.

The coach blew a whistle and the group huddled close. She explained the course, called out projected times for each one of them, and wished them all a good run. Leah knew the course, which would help her with her pace. She wasn’t the fastest runner and had been dropped a few times. Deidre would run with Leah for the first half mile, but as soon as her muscles warmed up she would break away.

As the group got under way, beginning to move at a slow pace down the dirt pathway, she focused on her form and breathing. Running made it difficult to worry about anything else. When she ran, Philip receded to the back of her mind.

As they rounded a wooded corner, the color red flashed in her side vision. She turned toward the woods and saw a man standing amid the trees, staring at the group. The runners got lots of stares from the few early morning walkers. A few drivers even honked when they passed a road. The flash of red wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But something about this man held her attention. His hoodie covered his face, making it impossible to get a good look at him. He was tall, muscled, and he dug his hands into his pockets like Philip did when he stalked her.