Nowhere to Run. Nancy Bush

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Nowhere to Run - Nancy  Bush Rafferty Family

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      NOWHERE TO RUN

      “It’s just Liv . . . please . . . and, yeah, someone’s after me.”

      “Who?”

      He was studying her in a way that made her extremely uncomfortable.

      “I don’t know, but it’s always been there. I’ve always known it, felt it. I think this—massacre—has something to do with me.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “I can’t explain it. I don’t have any proof. I know you won’t believe me. Why would you? But it’s a feeling I have, and it’s real. . . .”

      Books by Nancy Bush

      CANDY APPLE RED

      ELECTRIC BLUE

      ULTRAVIOLET

      WICKED GAME

      UNSEEN

      BLIND SPOT

      WICKED LIES

      HUSH

      NOWHERE TO RUN

      NOWHERE TO HIDE

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

      Nowhere To Run

      NANCY BUSH

      ZEBRA BOOKS

      KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

      http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

      Table of Contents

      NOWHERE TO RUN Also by Title Page 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 Epilogue Teaser chapter Teaser chapter Teaser chapter Teaser chapter Teaser chapter Copyright Page

      Prologue

      Then . . .

      He stood outside the house, staring at it from the backyard. They didn’t know he was there. They didn’t know that he stood in the backyard of many houses, watching, thinking, plotting.

      He could see her outline through the kitchen window above the sink. Her figure was hazy beneath a dress, but he smiled to himself as he watched her. He knew what she was like, what they were all like.

      A yellow square of light from the window set in the back door fell onto scraggly grass. As he watched, she moved from the window above the sink to the one in the back door, peering out. For a moment his heart squeezed with the thrill of the hunt. Could she see him? Could she know?

      But no. She couldn’t know. She didn’t know about the others though the newspapers and television reporters were squawking about the missing women whose bodies had yet to be discovered. She didn’t know about him. How close he was . . . how she was in his sights . . .

      His eyes burned and he wondered if she could feel his desire and fury, but she turned away, her back to him. The curve of her white nape was beautiful as she tilted her head as if listening.

      Do you hear me, bitch? Do you?

      He felt himself harden as he thought of her, and his cruel smile widened as he reached down inside his pants and began rhythmically stroking himself, part of the ritual, part of the beginning . . .

      Do you feel me?

      I’m coming for you . . . now. . . .

      Livvie Dugan looked in the mirror and said, “I’m six years old today.” She was missing one of her front teeth and she dragged her lips back in a snarl and stuck her little finger through the hole, just to see what it looked like. Pulling her pinkie back out, she next stuck her tongue through the space, squinted one eye and said, “Arrrgh, me mateys!” Just like pirates did.

      It had been a grand day. Mama had gotten her a big cake with pink roses on it, and she’d blown out all the candles at once! Her brother, Hague, who was only two and a half and didn’t know diddly-squat, according to their dad, tried to blow them out first, which made Livvie so mad that she’d stomped her foot. Livvie knew Hague was special; Mama said he was even though he seemed like he couldn’t do diddly-squat but that didn’t mean he got to blow out her candles! No way! She’d pushed

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