First off I apologize there has been a lack of posting. It's been hell week for my day job and my computer suffered some crippling injuries. I'm back though!

I'll be beginning writing 102 soon (as in ideally tomorrow) but for now I want to leave you with a preview of the next chapter of Out of the Past. Enjoy!

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Strained to a breaking point she realized she was  outside a little mom & pop shop with signs in Spanish. Inside she dug out a twenty and asked for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She hadn’t done this in three years, but packing the cigarettes down came naturally.

Without thought she pulled out two and turned them around, sliding them back in, the “good luck smokes.” With shaking hands she lit one and took a long puff. The feeling was familiar, comforting and- oh, god!

In a scant row of bushes she threw up, cursing whoever had decided to light a plant on fire and smoke it. The burning cancer stick fell as she emptied her stomach and after she was left panting. Back in the store she bought mouth wash and a travel toothbrush kit and cleansed her mouth in an alley.

When she was done she realized she’d seen the same Camry pass by for a third time, with a single driver, likely male. In the past forty-eight hours she’d forgotten the mess that had sent her running, and stark fear gripped her. She’d escaped him, there was no way he would be there, he couldn’t have found her.

She turned back and went the way she’d come, and the blue Toyota turned at the next corner. She kept up a quick pace, her hand on her shopping bag white-knuckled, and walked with great strides, her only thought getting to safety, and safety meant Sebastian.

Damn it, if she went south a block she could catch a bus to the train to get downtown where he’d be at work, or she had a mile and a half back to his house. The Camry turned down her street and without thought she ran. The car came abreast of her and the driver’s face was obscured by a scarf, but he looked right at her and terror screamed through her. Thinking quickly she doubled back and ran into an alley.

Tires screeched and she cut through an empty lot, running blindly. She ran zigzag through streets and alleys, yards and lots, kept pumping her legs until her lungs burned and she found herself at Sebastian’s house.

Panting, defeated, and determined, she found the spot on the wall she could climb and through her duffel over, staring back at the street for any sign of the Toyota.

“Claire!”

She heard her name just as she vaulted over and when she landed to her surprise strong arms caught her, cradling her. “Sebastian!”

“What the hell were you doing!?”

“Put me down!”

To her relief he did and she straightened her clothes and bent to grab the duffel, but he beat her to it. Opening it he saw the clothes and his expression turned thunderous, but there was pain in his green eyes. “You were leaving, again. Why did you come back?”

“I- Just-” She sighed and growled in frustration. It was all too much and she realized somewhere long the way she’d dropped the bag, cigarettes and all, and cursed viciously.

“Claire, what is going on!” He grabbed her arm and steadied her.

If he was the man she thought, the boy she’d known, she had to take the chance. So with a steadying breath she looked up at him and risked it all. “Someone is trying to kill me.”