John Roberts was on the prowl, looking for Beth! Charley braked quickly, holding her car back so her boss wouldn't recognize her. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with some way of saving the situation. She couldn't let Roberts catch Greg and Beth, certainly not after the scene back there in Ray's motel room.As Roberts pulled his Cadillac into the next motel to check the cars there, the brunette sped on down the street and roared onto the Interstate highway. She remembered the name of the motel. It wasn't fifteen minutes from here, just three exits away. Charley floor-boarded her car and raced along the highway, determined to get to the fucking couple in time to warn them.She might have made it, except for the cruising highway patrol. She still might have made it if the bastard had gone ahead and given her a ticket. Instead, the state cop stood deliberately beside her car and talked and talked and talked.The brunette could not be sure whether he was trying to make a date, or just. Some were praying; others were sleeping. I listened. I listened for God’s voice. I begged him to hear me and give me guidance. All I could hear were my own thoughts. The only future I could see was the one I’d already lived. The look of horror on my boyfriend’s face when I told him I was pregnant. His futile attempt to deny that it was possible. The look of disgust on my father’s face the last time he spoke to me. No, not the day he died—the day I told him I was pregnant. The minister’s lecture during my wedding on the evils of sex before marriage and how it tainted those who couldn’t wait. The high-fives Jesse got for nailing me. Lying alone in the hospital in the agony of childbirth.And the one glimmer of light in my life: my daughter.NO!I almost shouted it in the church. I wouldn’t do this again. I’d kill myself first.And then what? Wake up to start the whole nightmare over again?Maybe ... just maybe ... this was an opportunity to do it right.All I needed to do was decide what.
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