Running Scared by Lisa Jackson Read Free Book Online Page A

off in the same direction as the loud teenage boys. Daegan was left with a gnawing in his guts.
    “Damn you, Bibi,” he muttered under his breath. Knowing he was about to make a mistake that would follow him for the rest of his life, he climbed into his old Dodge pickup and headed toward the cheap cinder block motel on the edge of town.
     
    “I heard you call out last night,” Kate said at breakfast the next morning. Jon, distracted, was pushing a burnt corner of his toast through the glop that had been the middle of a fried egg.
    “Bad dream,” he mumbled, heavy strands of dark hair tumbling over his forehead as he avoided her gaze.
    “Another?” She tried to sound casual when inside she was dying. The scream she’d heard had caused her to sit bolt upright in the bed and fling off the coverlet. She’d been halfway to the door of her bedroom when she’d forced herself to stop and listen over the thudding of her heart and the rush of adrenalin that had pumped through her blood. She’d closed her eyes, counted to ten, and listened, ears straining.
    Jon resented her intruding into his life. The last time she’d dashed into his bedroom, she’d been met with quiet hostility that had simmered for two days. Jon had accused her of babying him, of overreacting, of smothering him with her motherly attentions, so last night, she’d stood in the middle of her room, silently counting off the seconds. When he hadn’t cried out again or come knocking on her door, she’d gone back to bed and lain awake until the alarm on her digital clock had gone off at six.
    “What else would it be?” he charged as she took a sip of her tepid coffee.
    “You tell me.”
    He looked past her to stare out the window, past the oak tree where the leaves were turning color, to the craggy mountains on the horizon. His eyes narrowed, as though he wasn’t seeing the sun-bleached fields or stand of pines that separated this patch of land from the McIntyre place. “Okay, so it wasn’t just a dream.”
    She leaned her hips against the counter and clutched her cup more tightly. “A premonition?”
    “Yeah.” He bit his lower lip as he always did when he tried to puzzle something out. “Maybe.”
    “Bad?”
    “Have I ever had a good one?”
    Kate’s heart sank. Oh, Lord, now what? “Tell me about it.”
    Lifting a shoulder, he said, “There’s a man involved and there’s gonna be trouble.”
    “What kind of trouble?” she asked, her voice steady, her heart beating a million times a minute.
    He squeezed his eyes shut as if forcing the vision. “I—I don’t know. I can’t see anything else.”
    She reached for the coffeepot on the stove, burned her fingers, and sucked in her breath. Don’t blow this, stay calm, she warned herself as she added warm coffee to her cup, though she hardly knew what she was doing. Jon was worried; she could see it in the strain on his face. “How long have you sensed this?”
    He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Just a little while. A week, maybe two. But last night…last night it was more than a feeling.”
    He shoved his plate aside and stood. Houndog scrambled out from under the table as Jon picked up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder.
    “You might be wrong. You’ve been wrong in the past. You know, as a little boy you thought you saw angels.”
    His head turned swiftly. He glared at her with such intensity, she nearly winced. “I never saw angels, Mom, okay? Never. Don’t tell anyone about the angels or the ghosts or any of that shit—” She raised her eyebrows and he caught himself. “Any of that stuff.”
    “Watch the language.”
    He started to say something, then changed his mind. “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything about the danger or—”
    “You didn’t say danger,” she cut in quickly, fear touching her lungs with cold, damp fingers. “You said trouble.”
    “Same difference.”
    “I don’t think so. Trouble is a bad report card, or losing your keys, or making