Running From Disaster
RUNNING FROM DISASTER
Sunrise Runners Duology Book One
Aubrey Parr
Copyright
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work of this author.
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This novel is purely a work of fiction. Any characters, names, or events are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental
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Cover artist: Bite Me Graphics
Editing provided by Allison Isberg
Proofreading provided by Shore to Please Proofreading & Editing
Book Formatted by Kristen Hope Mazzola
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ISBN: 978-0-9977211-8-8 (print) 978-0-9977211-9-5 (ebook)
Running From Disaster
Sunrise Runners Duology, book One
by Aubrey Parr
Copyright 2018 Aubrey Parr
Created with Vellum
Dedication
This book is dedicated to:
Stephanie – For encouraging me to dig deeper into my darker side. You may very well have created a monster.
Statistics
According to a statistic on the Internet, 65.6 million people went jogging or running in the past twelve months. How many of those do you think were at risk of being abducted?
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Sneak Peek - Racing From Chaos
SNEAK PEEK - RACING FROM CHAOS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Also by Aubrey Parr
Prologue
Gabriella
Half-way through her usual six-mile morning run, the news stories about the three runners that had been abducted in the area crept into her thoughts. Gabriella cranked her music louder and sang along, trying to drown them with the steady beat. The distraction worked. But eventually her eyes began to dart in every direction. Suddenly, she yanked out her earbuds. It was safer to try to listen to her surroundings, and Gabriella knew it. She pushed her body harder than ever before, running at a full sprint like a pack of dogs were chasing her. Finally, she rounded the last corner onto her street. Even with her building in sight, her heart pounded against her rib cage. Fear was taking over, and she couldn’t stop it.
She fumbled with the key on her wrist, tears welling in her eyes; she could barely catch her breath. Just as everything was going black…success! The key turned in the lock. She threw her body inside just in time to slam the door behind her. Sweat dripping from her every part of her body, practically melted to the cold door, Gabriella couldn’t move. She forced her hand up to bolt the lock and slid down, landing in a pile on the floor. Eyes still sealed shut, she tried to control her breathing. Every ounce of her body hurt, muscles screaming with pain. Moments like these, Gabriella hated the fact that she loved to run. Though it wasn’t the running that had caused her body to defy her will. It was the fear. Why did she run alone? Her running partners, Violet and Fiona, both had to cancel. She should have jumped on her treadmill. But Gaby craved the fresh air in the mornings, so she ran alone.
What the hell was I thinking? She cursed herself and fought to slow her heartrate.
Chapter 1
Gabriella
How could she love him and despise him at the same time? As Gabriella considered that thought more, she realized it wasn’t quite that simple. She didn’t love him, couldn’t love him. She didn’t know him. Despise him? That wasn’t quite right either. She despised his actions. Well, one action.
She despised how he seemed to break up with all his women in the same ceremonious way. As soon as he walked into her coffee shop wearing that particular suit, holding yet another sad red rose, she knew it was Break Up Day. Why was he so cliché? And handsome? Why did he have to be so goddamn handsome? Especially in that suit. He wore it on purpose.
Dylan Hart wore that suit best. Gabriella wasn’t positive, but she guessed it was hand tailored, because it fit him perfectly. (Had he asked the tailor to make him the perfect suit? To look undeniable handsome, just to twist the knife in further as he gave his flavor of the month her walking papers?) It was blue with barely noticeable white pin stripes. He didn’t wear a tie, only a crisp white shirt underneath, casually unbuttoned. All she wanted to do was rip open that shirt and feel his muscular chest underneath. Well, Gabriella assumed that it was muscular. It was in her dreams.
Here he was again. Sauntering up to the counter as if he would need to remind her of his order. It had only been a mere two weeks or so since they had done the same song and dance. His breakups had become far more frequent lately. Hopefully this poor girl didn’t have the chance to fall completely in love yet. They usually left crying, and Dylan always sat there as if he’d just conducted a business meeting. What was going on in that handsome head? Gaby searched his eyes, looking for some answers. She couldn’t allow herself to believe a man this perfect on the outside could be so empty inside.
“Triple espresso, please?” Dylan asked with a smile in his eyes. He looked to the ceiling for a moment, trying to remember his soon-to-be-ex’s favorite drink. “And…a medium caramel macchiato with almond milk.”
He could definitely be charming. Should she let on that she knew his name? It had been burned into her memory the first time he used a shiny black credit card to order his coffee. Concerned she’d look like stalker, Gaby kept it to herself.
“Would you like anything to eat with that?” Gabriella inquired robotically. She had a relatively small menu, but had known, when initially making her business plan, that she needed to offer some sort of food. Gaby kept it simple: a variety of bagels, muffins, fruit, and cookies. The usual companions to coffee. Her muffins, prepared on site, were a favorite with her regulars. Although she had always wanted to own a little coffee shop, she didn’t want it to run her life. Gaby wanted to be her own boss and still follow other dreams.
“No, that’ll be all. Thanks.” He flashed her a smile that made her knees practically buckle. When he smiled, his eyes twinkled like he was some kind of cartoon character. Oh, to feel the thick, dark scruff around that smile rubbing against her body as he kissed her all over. She noticed again the rose he was holding and remembered she despised what he was about to do.
Holding back an eye-roll, she replied, “Another rose, huh?” Holy shit, what was she thinking?
“What?” His expression became broody with the que
stion.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous. Who is your florist? You find the prettiest roses, and they’re my favorite.” It was her best attempt at saving the situation. Roses were her favorite. Maybe that was part of the problem. He was tainting her perfect flower.
“A little shop down the road,” he replied. “I hope you have someone that gives you roses then,” Dylan added, so nonchalantly it caught her off guard. He smiled and followed the counter over to wait for his drinks.
Watching him best she could without being obvious, Gaby could tell that something was bothering him. Were these breakups harder on him than she initially thought? She kind of hoped so. That would give him a redeeming quality. That was a bit unfair, and she knew it. Besides his physical appeal, he was always polite to her and cleaned up after himself. Gabriella reminded herself that Mr. Sexy really only had that one rather large problem. He broke women’s hearts on a regular basis, with a stupid red rose as a consolation prize.
As she watched his dreamy dark brown eyes, she began to study every other little detail. He was most likely in his early forties, but aged unfairly well, the way men do. They only get better with age. The lines that make women look old only give men more character. His hair hadn’t grayed yet, but she knew he’d look even more tempting once it did. His skin was tanned, as everyone else’s was in their town. The Kansas City suburb enjoyed all four seasons equally, and Gabriella loved it. It was full summer and hot as hell right now. Watching Dylan walk to over and take a seat by the window, she imagined what he’d look like in a pair of board shorts and some sunglasses.
“Mmmm,” escaped her mouth.
“You are sweet on him, honey!” Gabriella’s young employee whispered, walking behind her.
Gabriella tried to cover up the smile that came over her face before she turned around.
“What are you talking about?” she asked with as straight a face as she could muster.
“Every time Mr. I-Look-Hot-in-That-Suit walks in, you can’t keep your eyes off him,” Amber laughed. “I get it. He’s hot, even for an older man.”
Older man? In Amber’s defense, she was in college, and forties probably did sound like a lifetime away. Gabriella would be visiting forty in a few months and wasn’t scared in the slightest. She silently wished for a huge surprise fortieth birthday party to magically happen.
“He’s not that old.” Gabriella sounded offended for him.
“For you, not at all. I’ve got my eye on a frat guy.” Amber raised her eyebrows, giving away that her interest was most likely superficial.
“Ugh, sounds miserable,” Gabriella said honestly, laughing. She would never want to go back to her twenties. They were a blast, but she was happy with her life now.
“Whatever. You still want him,” Amber pointed out.
“Honestly, the man is gorgeous. But every time he comes in here, wearing the same I’m-going-to-break-your-heart suit and offering them the same rose at the beginning of the breakup, I want to gag. Though I try not to listen, he probably has the same script for each pretty woman. He treats them all the same. I just hate it. I feel sorry for them.”
“Shhhh… here she comes,” Amber whispered. Dylan was motioning a slight wave to the girl that had opened the door. Amber waited for the show to start, eyes wide. “I’m going to try and listen this time.”
“Don’t you dare!” Gabriella flung her little towel at her employee.
“Oh thanks, that’ll help. I can be cleaning tables.” Amber giggled and hurried around the bar before Gabriella could say anything else.
Luckily, it was slow. Dylan probably chose the time of day for that reason. A public place, yet few witnesses in case it did get ugly. Gabriella stood at the register and watched his latest victim walk towards the table by the window.
Gabriella could admit to herself that his girlfriends were always pretty. Most were younger than herself, but they were usually somewhere on the blonde scale and most often petite. They never appeared to be business women; they always showed up at 10 a.m. on a Monday, and none showed up in suits. This one made Gaby’s eyes roll into the back of her head. She waltzed in wearing jean shorts so small that the pockets hung out of the bottom. Gaby couldn’t put her finger on it, but that style of shorts drove her nuts. Her own runner’s legs would look great in a pair, but she also knew she was too old to pull off the look. Dylan’s latest girlfriend looked like she was most likely in her mid-thirties; she was too old for that teenaged look herself. Her tank top, an obnoxious bubble gum pink, just barely reached her waist. Dark blonde hair was twisted up in a messy knot on her head. Gaby was a bit envious of her gorgeous locks. It must hang far past her shoulders when it was down.
Gaby took notice of her own hair, thinking it was time to grow it out. Her mother had instilled this idea in her, that as a woman approaches forty, her hair should inch closer to shoulder length. Furrowing her brow in thought, Gaby wondered why. Was there a reason that only young women should have long flowing waves? Her hair was just at her shoulders, following mother’s orders. Its usual wave was tamed by its length, but after seeing this flavor-of-the-month’s hair, she wanted to set her waves free, let them grow like vines trailing down her shoulders and back.
Dylan stood to kiss Little Miss Daisy Dukes on the cheek, handing her the rose. The woman looked sadly unaware of what was about to happen. She had an air about her that rubbed Gabriella the wrong way. Usually Gaby felt sorry for his victims, but this one seemed like she thought the world revolved around her. How could Gaby know that? Maybe it was the look in her eye. Either way, Gaby wasn’t concerned for this little tart. Watching Amber hide her smirk and sidle closer to their conversation was quite amusing. Gaby half-expected her to start doing a casual whistle, making it obvious she was eavesdropping.
The whole scene only took about ten minutes. Daisy Dukes walked out in a huff without shedding one tear, and Dylan sat there finishing his espresso, staring absent mindedly out the window. Not a care in the world.
Amber’s shoulders hunched and shook ever so slightly as she almost lost control of her laughter on her way back behind the counter.
“Well… Mariah thinks that your hottie just made the biggest mistake of his life,” Amber whispered behind her.
“Mariah? Ugh, why do I hate that name so much? She wasn’t a crier like the others,” Gaby responded, without taking her eyes off Dylan.
“He was actually pretty nice to her. Made it seem perfectly logical that they shouldn’t be seeing each other anymore.”
“Really?” That caught Gabriella’s attention. Anything that made this man seem more real was helpful.
“Maybe he’s not an ass like you guessed.” Ambers eyes softened.
Her attention back on those dark eyes staring out at the courtyard fountain, Gaby imagined herself sitting across the table from him. What would they talk about? He had visited her dreams on many nights and talking was never involved. Well, other than the sweet nothings that he breathed into her ear as he took her body to ecstasy and back. Just as she flashed back to a dream, his rock-hard body on top of hers, his back glazed with a light layer of sweat, Dylan looked over at her and their eyes locked. Gaby’s breath went missing. Her face was on fire. His eyes found her soul, the same as in her dreams.
Not sure what to do, she turned to Amber, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Gaby was pretty sure she had caught a smirk forming on the sides of those sexy lips.
What the hell was she supposed to do now?
Chapter 2
Dylan
What was he thinking this time, with a girl like Mariah? Sure, she was cute and fun, but he was getting too old for that shit. Everything about this one was completely on the surface. Arm candy, if you will. Dylan had half-expected there to be a scene with Mariah. That was just her way. Everything was always about Mariah, and he had tired of it rather quickly.
Lately, each breakup had gotten easier for him. No one seemed to stick, and he was realizing it faster and faster these days. His womanizing fa
ther taught him how to end things fast. Rip it off like a band-aid, so they say.
Dylan Hart sat at his usual table in Mugs, the local coffee shop. He liked the feel of the place but couldn’t put his finger on what made this place better. Like most coffee shops these days, it had a few scattered tables and some comfortable chairs that allowed for soft conversation or a nice space to read a book. Maybe it was that the tables didn’t all match but complimented each other with an eclectic feel. Or that the chairs were leather, perfectly broken in. The lighting was calm, and there was always the scent of muffins baking in the kitchen. Then there was the cute woman behind the counter. She wasn’t his type to date, but he could admit he liked the view with her back there.
As he took another sip of his espresso, he wondered why he didn’t come in more often. Mugs was smack in the middle of the quaint shopping center just in front of his office building. Perhaps because his late nights didn’t allow any extra time in the morning to stop in for a cup. His assistant always had it waiting at his desk as he slid into his seat, without a moment to lose. Mornings just weren’t his thing.