Page 90 of Runner 13
‘Those were personal to Alex – who knows if Adri is being sent to the same caches. And, remember, my dad is sick. He won’t be travelling on foot. He must be in some sort of vehicle. If we go back to where Alex started from, we might be able to follow his tyre tracks. You heard what Ali said – finding these runners will be impossible, like needles in a haystack. Shit, we had Alex’s GPS beacon beamed directly to Emilio’s phone and we still had trouble finding him.’ I glance at Ali, who catches my eye and nods. He’s with me. He’s not with Pete.
Even I am finding it difficult to be with Pete. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. I’ve kept things from him, secrets I’ve kept our entire relationship. And he’s so worried about Adrienne.
Adrienne. The woman who ruined so many lives: Glenn’s, my sister’s, mine. The anger I’d felt towards her has mellowed over time, becoming more like a simmer. But now that she’s back in the game, competing in a race, I feel the familiar heat rising again. That she can get back in the ring, when Yasmin never can.
That she can put the past behind her.
But mostly: that she’d been there when I’d run away. She’d been a sister to Yasmin in the moment of her greatest need. And that fills me with rage and guilt and pain.
‘It’s going to take us an hour to get to this point, right, Ali?’ Pete asks him.
‘At least,’ he replies.
Pete turns to me. ‘Good. We have time. Now you can tell me what really happened in Ibiza.’
38
Stella
Seven years earlier
Ibiza
My alarm goes off at three a.m. Despite my excessive drinking the night before, I feel good – in all likelihood I’m still a bit tipsy. I’m making the right decision. So I’m not going to Barcelona with my sister. That sucks. But I am going to see the new man in my life. And that fills me with excitement.
I don’t even care that it’s selfish. It’s what I want. I promised Yasmin a week, and that’s what I gave her.
I stop outside her hotel-room door, my suitcase dragging behind me. I think about knocking. But I know what will happen if she answers. She’ll change my mind. So instead, I leave the small posy of wild flowers I’d picked when I’d gotten back from the restaurant with Adrienne. Along with my note.
Gone to see P. Good luck with your training.
I hope it’s worth it.
A short flight, train and taxi journey later, and I’m at Pete’s door. Thankfully, my surprise works. I grin at his open-mouthed shock at seeing me, toast crumbs round his mouth from breakfast. He picks me up and twirls me round. We kiss, and I forget about everything – everyone – I’veleft behind in Ibiza. Any second thoughts I had about this plan are swept away, replaced only with lust.
I’ve timed it exceedingly well. Ethan is with his grandparents, so we can spend the rest of the day together in bed. He cooks me dinner and even forgoes his evening training run for me – he has no idea how sexy I find that.
I’m tired of being second place to running, after all.
The next morning, while Pete’s in the shower, I head downstairs to make coffee. My suitcase is still in the hall, where I’d abandoned it in favour of our kiss. I dig my phone out of my bag, turning it off airplane mode for the first time since I got on the flight in Ibiza. It lights up with missed calls, a voicemail, texts. One from Yasmin is glaring at me:I need you.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach, but I squash it down. I’d left a note. Maybe I should have texted her too, but I assumed she’d be too busy training to notice. Obviously not. There’s a voicemail from her too. Left in the morning, about the time my plane took off.
At first I don’t understand what I’m listening to. It’s quiet. Muffled. I’m about to hang up, writing it off as a butt dial. It’s not like Yasmin to stay out until six a.m. so maybe she was up early for a run.
Then I hear a sound that sends chills down my spine. A whimper. My fingers grip the phone tight, my knuckles turning white.
Her voice sounds so small. She says my name and it sounds like a prayer. ‘Stella. Stella,s’il te plaît…’
Shit. I should never have left. The voicemail is still running. I listen carefully, trying to hear every word. ‘OK, I’m back,’ I hear someone say. Another woman. There’s athud, like the phone’s been dropped on the floor. It’s even harder to hear now. But I recognize that voice. I hear her muttering soothing things to Yasmin, but there’s an edge to her voice. An anger. ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ she says. ‘Come on. We have to go. The taxi’s waiting.’
The message cuts off. What was Adrienne doing putting Yasmin in a taxi?
I call her back immediately, but after a few rings it goes to voicemail. I send her a text, willing her to reply. I check her running app, but no new routes have been added today.
Don’t spiral. Everything’s fine.
I hear Pete swear loudly from the bedroom. I rush upstairs.
