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  Running From the Law

  Brides on the Run, Book 3

  Jami Albright

  Copyright © 2018 by Jami Albright

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Running From the Law

  One night of passion. Two second chances. Three little texts . . .

  Former child star, Charlie Klein, is in a world of trouble. She’s broke, jobless, and no longer famous—except with the IRS. She’s ready to run, so an emergency call from Texas is all the excuse she needs to get out of Hollywood. But she doesn’t expect to crash into the sheriff of her hometown, the boy she loved and lost. One look at Hank Odom confirms what her heart has always known . . . She never stopped loving him.

  Unlike the men in his family, Hank’s a do-the-right-thing kind of guy. When his cheating, soon-to-be ex-wife texts him wanting a second chance – or a twentieth chance – he’s determined to honor his vows. One problem? His traitorous heart has never forgotten the woman who just blew back into town.

  One night of passion. Two second chances. Three little texts. And nine months of OMG!

  To Nathan and Stephanie, thank you for the lock and key idea. I’m so happy you two found the key to your Happily Ever After.

  T o Miranda Lambert & Eric Church, your music inspired every emotional word of this book. Thank you for carrying me through the writing of Running From the Law .

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Epilogue

  Hello!

  A note from Jami

  Acknowledgments

  Preview Running From a Rock Star, Brides on the Run Book One

  Preview Body Check, Blades Hockey Book Four

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  It wasn’t every day that a Hollywood star lost their shit.

  Oh, wait, that did happen every day, but not to Charlie Klein. As the child star of the Carousel Network’s Charlie Takes the Town for the last eight years she’d learned to keep her freak-outs on the down low.

  Until today.

  “What do you mean it’s all gone? Like, define all.” She held her phone in a death grip.

  “Every penny in the account you set up for your grandfather is gone, Ms. Klein. You didn’t know?” Jerry Lattimore, the president of Zachsville National Bank, sounded almost as worried as she did.

  Crazy clawed up her throat like a Kardashian with a broken phone camera. “No, I didn’t know. Why the hell would I call you to try to transfer money for my grandfather if I knew?”

  “Ms. Klein, please calm down.” The tremor in the man’s voice indicated to dial it back or she wouldn’t get the answers she needed.

  “I apologize.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “Mr. Lattimore.” She paced her Austin, Texas hotel room. “Are you telling me that my grandfather has withdrawn more than a million dollars from that account?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Now she was confused on top of being freaked out. She knew she hadn’t taken the money and there was no one else left who could’ve wiped her out.

  “There were automatic monthly withdrawals that went to your mother, then six months ago she emptied the account. She was a co-signer on the account.” The man’s logical tone while he flipped her life on its ass made her want to hurt someone.

  “My mother was never on that account.” She knew this because it was the one financial thing she’d done on her own as soon as she’d turned eighteen. She’d never given her mother access to the money she’d set up for her grandfather’s retirement. There had to be a mistake.

  Computer keys clicked on the other end of the line. “Ms. Klein, I have a document signed by your grandfather putting her name on the account. It’s dated and notarized.”

  Silence. Her words were jammed behind a wall of fury. This explained so much, but left so many questions unanswered. Why had she done it? It didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that her grandfather was recovering from a car accident that should’ve taken his life but blessedly hadn’t. If he hadn’t been airlifted from Zachsville to Memorial Hospital in Austin, then that might not be the case.

  Holy hell. If all the money was gone from the account she’d set up for him, then she couldn’t give her Pops the care he needed. The pitiful truth was she was broke. Her grandfather hadn’t been the only victim of her mother’s crimes. She’d stolen from Charlie too, and left her in trouble with the IRS.

  Six months ago, she’d woken up to find millions had disappeared. According to her accountant, every account had been cleaned out. And, yes, she had needed someone to tell her she was broke. One more thing she’d let others run for her. She was such an idiot. She’d trusted her mother and been burned in the worst way.

  Two weeks later her mother was dead in Italy. The money she took, never recovered. And Charlie was slapped with a huge bill from the Internal Revenue Service with no way to pay it. The betrayal still had the power to take her to her knees.

  Thankfully, she’d always followed her grandmother’s advice to tuck away a little cash for a rainy day or she’d have nothing. Now every cent of her residuals from Charlie Takes the Town were going to pay back her taxes. If she was careful, lived modestly, and there were no emergencies, like her grandfather’s retirement account being empty, she could stretch her small nest egg another six months.

  “Ms. Klein?” Mr. Lattimore’s voice cut through her misery. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No.” She disconnected the call and stared out the window of the hotel room she’d rented to be close to her grandfather. The rays of an early autumn sunset shone off the hospital’s sign and mocked her.

  This is what she’d given up her childhood for? Given up…well, everything for. Sitting broke and alone in a strange hotel room wondering how she’d care for the only family she had in the world?

  She slid her finger gingerly over the phone screen and went t
o her voicemail to listen to the message again. Two clicks and she put the phone to her ear.

  “Um…Charlie, this is Hank Odom. I’m the Sheriff of Blister County now.”

  At the sound of his voice her frazzled nerves stopped vibrating with pent-up tension.

  “I need you to return my call as soon as possible. It concerns your grandfather. He’s been in an accident. You can reach me on this number.”

  The way he said her name was so foreign and yet achingly familiar.

  Hank Odom.

  The boy who’d loved her, who she’d loved, and left. They’d never been able to be a real couple. They’d had to sneak around because he was three years older, and her mother hadn’t approved. Then a few months before her sixteenth birthday, unbeknownst to her, her mother sent a tape of her singing to an open audition the Carousel Network was having, and within months she was moving to LA.

  Away from Hank. Away from her dreams of a life with him.

  She hadn’t heard from him or about him for eight years. First it had been her mother blocking all communication with anyone from Zachsville, including her grandparents. After a while simple self-preservation forced her to put aside thoughts of those she’d left behind, including her best friend Hailey and saddest of all, Hank. She hadn’t even looked them up on social media. What would that have accomplished? Nothing. She’d just be picking at the scar of an old wound.

  Once she and her grandfather reconnected at her mother’s funeral, the only request she had was that he not talk about her old life in Zachsville. Some memories were better left ripped to shreds.

  Dramatic much, Charlie? That was all in the past. You’ve got bigger problems in the present.

  Right. An injured grandfather, a lying, stealing dead mother, an enormous tax bill, and no money. She glanced at her phone again. Her options were slim to none except for the one horrible thing she absolutely did not want to do.

  Damn it.

  Her finger hovered above the phone screen. Fire burned in her belly. She’d been so close to freedom, and for a short time she’d had it. Free of the Carousel Network, free of bad writing and canned laughter, just free to do whatever the hell she wanted to do, whatever that was. But now, she’d have to take the ridiculous offer Carousel had made her before she left LA—a new show on a kid’s network, at the age of twenty-four. The leash that she’d slipped only two short months ago looped tight around her throat.

  Before she could think too long about it, she punched the familiar name on her phone.

  “Charlie, you brat, when are you coming back to LA? Not that there’s really any reason to since you turned down Carousel. FYI, nobody else is banging on your door.”

  There was always something so comforting and yet distasteful about hearing her manager’s voice. “My grandfather’s well, thanks for asking, Ron.”

  “Of course he’s well. He’s too mean to die.”

  Her Pops wasn’t mean. He just didn’t like Ron. “The Carousel deal is what I’m calling about.”

  “Really?” His tone immediately changed from disinterested to sweet and cordial. “What about it?”

  “You can tell them I’m willing to negotiate.”

  “Are you serious? Don’t yank my chain.”

  “I’m serious. But there are a few things I want. I’ll text them to you.” She pretended the pain in her heart wasn’t really there. Just like she’d been taught to do. Smiling for the camera and hiding her true feelings was as natural as breathing.

  “That’s fantastic. They’re offering you a shit-ton of money, Charlie, enough to get you out of hock with the IRS, and then some. This is the big time. I’m going to call them right now. You’ve made the right decision, sweetheart. Talk soon.” The call disconnected.

  Sweetheart. Now she was his sweetheart. Wasn’t that just the Hollywood way. You’re only as good as the last thing you did, and everything, including love, was conditional.

  She briefly considered listening to Hank’s voicemail again, but decided that on a scale of one to pitiful that would be a solid pathetic.

  I’ve got to get out of here.

  Anywhere was preferable to being stuck in these four walls with only her thoughts to keep her company. She grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator. On the ride to the lobby, she tried to talk herself into a better frame of mind. It was a trick her grandmother had taught her when she was little.

  This situation will be fine.

  It will work out.

  I’m grateful I have the means to earn more money.

  So what if I have to play a teenager for another couple of years. Surely that shit has a fucking expiration date on it.

  Okay, that last part wasn’t part of grandma’s process. In fact, the woman would wash her mouth out with soap for that outburst.

  She examined herself in the mirrored doors and tried again.

  I’m lucky to look so young.

  One day I’ll be grateful for the fact that I looked way younger than twenty-four years old. Hey, maybe I can keep playing crappy teenaged roles for the rest of my miserable fucking life?

  She should probably try this little exercise later. Clearly, she wasn’t in the right frame of mind for positive Pollyanna thoughts. In fact, she’d happily punch Pollyanna in the vagina right about now.

  She needed a drink.

  The doors opened, and with her head down—the last thing she needed was to be recognized—she exited the elevator and ran straight into a wall of solid male. “Oh, excuse me.” She addressed his boots because she couldn’t deal with a fan right now, or having to be girl-next-door Charlie Kay.

  He grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “No problem.”

  That voice. She knew that voice. She should, because she’d just listened to it five minutes ago, but it had also played center stage in her dreams for the last eight years. It represented all that was good with the world.

  It couldn’t be. Slowly, she raised her head and…sweet baby Jesus. He still stole every molecule of air from her lungs.

  “Charlie?” The timbre of his Texas accent snuggled around her heart.

  She swallowed twice, trying to make her vocal chords work. “Hank?”

  He maneuvered them out of the way of another couple trying to enter the elevator. “I… It’s good to see you.”

  “Hank?” Dogs three miles away probably heard her high-pitched question.

  “Yep, it’s me.” His lips slid up on one side. “You okay, Charlie?”

  Had she conjured him? How awesome if she’d developed that talent. Maybe she could conjure a buttload of money. She shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

  His golden bangs hung over his forehead. “Are you staying here?”

  She got lost in the shape of his lips for a moment and had to refocus. “Yes, to be close to Pops in the hospital.”

  He nodded. “How is he?”

  Tears she hadn’t realized she needed to shed tried to spill over her lids. “He’s good. It was touch and go for a few hours, but he’s going to be fine. His leg is pretty messed up, so he’ll need some ongoing care for a while, but he’s good. What are you doing here?”

  “Just getting out of Zachsville for a few days.” His eyes never left hers and an old familiar heat blazed in his green irises.

  An electric current sparked between his hands and her arms, then raced through her body. It had always been this way, even though all they’d ever done was some serious kissing. Not because she hadn’t wanted more, but he’d always been careful with her. “I better—”

  “Where are you headed?”

  His mouth was nice. Was he saying something? “I’m sorry?”

  The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned made her girly parts beg for mercy. Teenaged Hank had made her quiver with excitement, but grown-up Hank cut the ribbon on the Grand Opening of Lady Land.

  He was just so…much. So much bigger, so much better looking, just so much more. Tall, golden, and a little rough around the edges. The manicur
ed, pampered, and coiffed men in Hollywood couldn’t hold a candle to his raw masculinity.

  The width of his shoulders cast a shadow that invited her to hide from the world. He was the one she’d run to when her mother’s demands overwhelmed her. His strong arms had held her when she’d bawled like a baby when she found out they were moving to Los Angeles. He’d been her defender, her shelter, and she ached to sink into that protection once again.

  “I said, where are you going? Are you headed back to the hospital?”

  She shook her head. “No. Pops told the nurse not to let me back in his room until I’ve had a night’s rest. You know how he can be.”

  The smile deepened. “Yes, I do. Every time I see him he reminds me of that time he caught me climbing in your window.”

  If she closed her eyes, she could still see eighteen-year-old Hank standing outside her window. His heart in his eyes, and his blond bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. The thrilling beat of butterfly wings against her heart as she’d raised the window, trying her hardest to not make a sound.

  “How did you get up here, Hank Odom?”

  His cocky mouth kicked up on one side. “I climbed.”