Free Never Look Back (Coming Home Book 2) by Amy Stephens

truck, a bolt of lightning fills the sky and thunder rumbles. In just seconds, rain begins to pour down in torrential sheets. The rain is coming down so hard, I’m hardly able to see in front of me. I let Doug go ahead and pull away before I attempt to back out again. This time, I make sure to look both ways. I pull up to the stop sign and smack my hand up against my forehead disgusted I could be so irresponsible.
    Well, one good thing did come about though. I did manage to find a job. Even though we didn’t discuss pay I’m pretty sure it’s not going to be much more than minimum wage. I tuck the business card up on the visor and drive towards the apartment.

    The rain is still coming down pretty good when I get back and I’m a little disappointed the rain may settle in for the night. I thought more about my library book on the drive home and I’m really looking forward to picking up where I left off.
    I sit in the parking spot for several minutes hoping the rain will subside enough for me to make it inside without getting drenched. When it doesn’t appear to be letting up after several minutes or so, I grab a plastic bag from the floorboard and dump the contents out. An empty twenty ounce plastic bottle and a bag of half eaten chips fall to the floor. Right now I would love to be able to snack on some salty chips and my mouth waters just thinking about it, but there’s no telling how long I’ve been riding this half eaten bag around in the floorboard. I promised myself I would take better care of this car and keep the inside clean, but it didn’t take me long to resort back to my old habits. I should be ashamed at the amount of trash that has accumulated. Instead of putting the plastic bag over my head, I drop my books in the bag and make a mad dash for the breezeway leading down to the apartment.
    I shake off the rainwater from the bag and sit it on the ground next to the door. I fish around in my pocket for the keys and at the same time I notice a piece of paper tucked in the side of the door. I unfold it and realize a deputy sheriff has been by looking for me. There’s a phone number on the paper with a brief message for me to call at my earliest convenience. Shit! What now?
    I drop the bag of books down on the couch and slide open the sliding doors to let in some fresh air. I glance down at the paper again and figure I might as well find out what’s going on that would cause a sheriff to come looking for me. It’s probably better to call them now rather than someone show up at the apartment again and realize I’m here without any electricity.
    I dial the number and realize I’m somewhat nervous. I can’t imagine what a deputy sheriff would want from me. Hopefully Doug didn’t change his mind about the accident and decide to report me for not having insurance. Then I realize I’m just jumping the gun—there’s no way the sheriff would have had time to talk to him, make a report, then drive all the way over here to talk to me.
    “Deputy Jones speaking.” The voice on the other end is loud and sounds like a military drill sergeant.
    “Yes, I, uh, had a note left on my door stating I needed to call this number. Can you tell me what this pertains to?”
    Once we have verified I am the person of interest, the deputy informs me he has important paperwork that needs to be hand delivered to me. My body tenses and a sheen of sweat covers my body. I can’t imagine who would be sending me paperwork that has to be delivered by a sheriff. I’m not looking forward to finding out what it is and who it’s from, but I figure it must be important.
    Since Deputy Jones is getting off work within the hour, he suggests bringing the paperwork over to me on his way home. I might as well deal with it and face whatever trouble lies ahead.
    After disconnecting the phone call, I walk over and stand at the patio doorway. My mind is reeling ninety miles an hour. I’ve gotten myself into some pretty crazy situations before,