Runaway (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite Book 4) Read online

  RUNAWAY

  New Star Elite Series

  Book Four

  by

  REBECCA KING

  © 2019 by Rebecca King

  The moral right of R L King to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SHADOWS AND LIES

  TO LOVE AND LOVE AGAIN

  MURDER AT HYNDE HOUSE

  HEART OF AN ANGEL

  TUPPENCE

  OTHER BOOKS

  BY REBECCA KING

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Dear God, Oscar, what have you done?” Molly Egerton whispered.

  She stared at the half-empty dresser drawer in her brother’s bed chamber and a horrible suspicion began to grow in the back of her mind. She yanked open the rest of the drawers and became even more suspicious when she saw that they also contained only some of Oscar’s clothes.

  “What in the world?” Confused, Molly searched the drawers again. It swiftly became apparent that Oscar had sorted through his wardrobe and removed only the newest, thickest and his most favourite items of clothing. The rest remained untouched. On the surface, it didn’t look as though anything was missing. Molly, who did his laundry, knew that not all of her brother’s clothing was where it should be, though.

  He is trying to cover his tracks by not taking it all.

  Molly closed her eyes and began to silently pray that Oscar hadn’t done what he had threatened to do on several occasions since they had been forced to move into their aunt’s house; run away. Mentally, she calculated how long it had been since she had last seen him. It was no more than an hour at least.

  “He can’t have gone too far,” she whispered.

  Her heart leapt with hope that she might be able to find him. Molly swiftly searched the rest of the room for something, anything, that would give her some clues as to where he had gone. Seconds later and with a resounding bang, a no wiser Molly slid the last drawer closed and hurried over to the still partially open window. Sliding it up, she leaned out and checked the empty alley at the side of the house.

  “Damn you,” she hissed in disgust when, unsurprisingly, she found the narrow path beneath the window empty.

  Molly didn’t doubt that was the route he had taken to sneak out of the house, but where he had gone after that was anybody’s guess. Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken enough of his things with him to keep him warm should the weather turn cold.

  “I doubt you have money either,” she grumbled in disgust.

  Molly wanted to call out for him, just in case he was hiding, but daren’t alert their aunt to the fact that something was wrong. If there was one thing Aunt Edith hated more than anything it was noise of any kind. Edith wouldn’t care if Oscar had gone. She would, however, whine incessantly about the noise Molly made while searching for him.

  “Am I clutching at straws here?” Molly breathed, a little stunned at the unexpected turn of events.

  Treacherously, her thoughts strayed to the recent spate of kidnappings that had hit the area. She tried to dismiss it but forced herself to consider the possibility that someone might have kidnapped Oscar.

  “All of those people were young women just like me. There is no reason why anybody should choose to snatch a young boy like Oscar. He can’t have been kidnapped,” she reassured herself, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

  “Now, you have gone and landed me right in it, brother mine,” she snorted in disgust.

  What Molly couldn’t quite comprehend was that after everything they had lost over the last six months, her brother had chosen to abandon her. He had simply packed up a handful of things he liked and had not said a word before he had simply walked out of her life. It hurt, more than anything she had endured over the last year; the constant fear for their future that they had been helpless to resolve, the worry about living with their bullying aunt, the hopelessness of being plunged into a life neither her or Oscar had wanted. It had all been there but had been bearable because it had been shared. Now, it felt like a slap in the face that her brother had taken matters – and his life – into his own youthful hands and had chosen to look after himself while leaving her to her own devices.

  “Oscar, why would you leave me like that? I thought we were always going to stick together,” Molly whispered.

  While he wasn’t there to answer her, Molly knew it was because he had been deeply miserable, and she had been reluctant to leave the only house that, while affording very little in the way of comfort, was at least shelter from the rain.

  “We may as well be ghosts for all of the life we have here,” she whispered in quiet acknowledgement of her brother’s misery. “But you shouldn’t have left, Oscar.”

  Tears stung Molly’s eyes as she stared at the neatly made bed and tried to decide what to do. The only person who mattered to her in the whole world was her brother. She tried to find a reason – any reason – to remain in the house and leave Oscar to spend a night or two out on the streets. A cold dose of reality would be enough to force him back – wouldn’t it? Molly doubted it.

  Regardless of how much she searched his bed chamber, Molly knew she wouldn’t find Oscar any more than she could find a reason to stay in the house without him. Dare she leave? If she left him for a day or two, did she dare risk that Oscar wouldn’t just adapt to life on the streets and not want to go and live somewhere else with her if she could find him again?

  “You are only eleven years old. How in the world do you expect to survive?” Molly closed her eyes and willed herself to stay strong and keep calm a seething mass of panic grew rapidly and threatened to suffocate her.

  “Molly? What are you doing up there?”

  Molly jerked at the sound of her aunt’s domineering command.

  “Nothing,” Molly replied with a sigh.

  “I heard banging,” Edith persisted.

  “It must have been next door. Go and tell them if you object,” Molly replied dourly, her voice reducing to a mutter.

  “How dare you be so rude?” Edith snapped.

  “It wasn’t me,” Molly lied.

  “Why, you obstinate young heathen,” Edith continued anyway, as though Molly hadn’t spoken, even though Molly knew she had heard her.

  Molly wanted to cross the landing to get to her own bed chamber, but daren’t make herself visible, not least because she would have to explain to her aunt why she was in her brother’s room. Not only that but she would then have to explain where Oscar was and she couldn’t do that either.

  Because I don’t have a clue.

  “It’s time to make dinner. You can r
edeem yourself by peeling the vegetables. Get on with it, but do it quietly, do you hear? Quietly!”

  “Of course,” Molly replied. “I shall tiptoe all the way, and not make a sound. I shall be a veritable ghost in your life as usual.”

  “What was that?” Edith demanded imperiously.

  “Nothing.”

  “I suppose you are going to try to blame your insolence on the neighbours as well, are you?” Edith replied, her tone arrogant and aloof.

  “No, I wouldn’t dare,” Molly replied.

  This time, she wisely kept her mouth shut and allowed silence to fall while she waited for her aunt to leave. She suspected her aunt was still standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting and listening carefully in case Molly dare sneeze or something. Determined to wait her out, Molly took a seat on the edge of Oscar’s bed and stared at the room around her while she contemplated what she was going to do now.

  To say her aunt ruled the house with an iron thumb was an understatement. Aunt Edith was draconian, harsh, spiteful and demanding as well as very, very lazy. It was difficult to comprehend that she was related to their mother. There were very little similarities, even in the way of looks. Not only did Edith not allow anybody to have a voice of any kind except for herself, she wanted to remain firmly in control of everything in her life, including the people in it. Molly’s parents had raised their children in a fun-loving household where laughter and games were rife. In contrast, Edith’s house was dark, gloomy and deathly silent.

  Following their father’s death six months ago, Edith had ungraciously, it has to be said, agreed to accommodate Molly and Oscar when it had become apparent that they had had no place else to go. The moral duty the solicitor had emphasised to Edith had been persuasive enough, but Molly knew it had truly been the allowance Molly and Oscar received that had persuaded her aunt to provide them with a roof over their heads. Unfortunately, Edith had never allowed a day to go by where she hadn’t told them in no uncertain terms how much they spoilt her life, even though they had been lumbered with most of the housework, cooked all the meals, and generally gave the woman someone to moan at. Not only that, but they were forced to live as frugally as possible, whereas their aunt appeared to languish in a lavish lifestyle of sumptuous indulgence none of which extended to Molly and Oscar. They were there to be of service and should not expect to enjoy any aspect of the life they had now – that much had been made clear to them both.

  It really came as no surprise that Oscar had chosen to take his life back and would rather take his chances on the streets than have his life stolen by a draconian miser who resented them.

  “Molly!” Edith screeched when it became evident to her that Molly hadn’t jumped to carry out her orders immediately.

  “I need to get out of here as well,” Molly whispered, her stomach coiled in knots.

  The very thought of doing so terrified her so much she physically began to shake.

  There was a time in my life when I used to be quite happy going where I needed to go. Now, I am too scared to contemplate anything of the kind.

  As a result of Edith’s behaviour, every time Molly ventured out of the house she felt guilty, as though she was committing some sort of cardinal sin. That guilt was heightened if she found herself enjoying her journey out. The pleasure she experienced didn’t just heighten her guilt, it made returning to the large, rambling home her aunt owned more dreadful. Reluctance often filled Molly with a sickening fear whenever she saw the house and had to face the prospect of returning to it. Of late, it had become so bad that Molly had chosen to simply not go out anymore. She usually sent Oscar out to fetch bread and provisions. Now that Oscar had gone she had to face leaving at some point, if only to go shopping.

  I don’t want to shop for Edith either, she mused darkly. In fact, she didn’t want to do anything for that woman anymore.

  When she was sure her aunt had left, Molly crept across the passage and into her bed chamber. Once there, she hurriedly gathered as many of her belongings as she could pack and shoved them roughly into the only bag she owned.

  “Now what do I do?” she whispered.

  “Molly!”

  Molly closed her eyes on a wave of frustration when she heard the imperious demand in her aunt’s voice. Dutifully, she made her way downstairs only for her gaze to land on her aunt’s ‘friend’, Denzel Erstwhile, who was just letting himself in through the front door. Molly mentally groaned when the middle-aged man’s narrowed eyes slid lecherously over her. Determined not to let him see just how much his leering made her skin crawl, Molly straightened her shoulders and lifted a brow at her aunt.

  “What?” she demanded dourly.

  “I thought I told you to get dinner,” Edith rapped.

  “I am going.”

  “Where is that brother of yours? I have told you time and again to keep him under control. I will not have him running riot around this house, do you hear me?”

  “He doesn’t,” Molly protested.

  Edith squinted at her. For a moment, Molly wondered if she was going to get another lambasting. Thankfully, Denzel’s presence prevented it. In the end, Edith huffed and turned her back. Promptly dismissed, Molly watched her aunt plaster an overly bright smile on her face as she turned to face her guest. Edith billed and cooed at him as she led him into her parlour, then rudely slammed the door behind her.

  Molly shook her head in disgust and quietly made her way to the back of the house. Safely confined in the kitchen, she eyed her cloak and then turned to study the empty shopping basket resting on the floor beside the back door.

  “Well, if I have to go out and fetch food to feed that woman, I may as well not come back,” Molly boldly muttered aloud.

  Cautiously looking over her shoulder, Molly turned to the old battered tin her aunt usually kept the housekeeping money in. She didn’t have long before Denzel would appear as he usually did to leer and offer her his services should she ever get lonely. With hands that fumbled, Molly snatched up the old battered tin and yanked the lid off. It didn’t contain much, but there was enough money in it for her to be able to buy food for the next few days if Molly, and Oscar if she could find him, spent carefully. What they would do when it had run out was anybody’s guess. Molly knew she couldn’t think about that now.

  “I have to focus on finding Oscar.”

  With that thought locked firmly in her mind, Molly shoved the money into her pocket and tiptoed back through the house. Racing up the stairs as quietly as she could, she collected her bag and retraced her steps, all the while praying that Denzel wouldn’t venture out of the parlour until she had gone. As she passed Edith’s lair, Molly heard the falsetto cackle of her aunt’s laughter followed by the deeper rumblings of her lover. With a shudder, Molly clutched her bag and hurried on to the kitchen door.

  Now that she had made her mind up, she was desperate to be on her way – and quickly.

  Patting her pocket, Molly draped her cloak around her shoulders. She then shoved several apples into her bag together with what was left of the bread and a few small chunks of meat. When that was safely tucked away she helped herself to a knife, a knee rug and a few other small items, and hastily shoved those into her bag as well. Eventually, she was ready and crept silently out of the kitchen. She didn’t even bother to write her aunt a note, not least because she didn’t think her aunt would give a damn if she had gone. Edith would be angry that she hadn’t got anybody to boss about but would go no further than that, Molly was sure of it.

  “I shall write to the solicitor to tell him that we no longer reside at the house so he can stop the allowance she receives,” Molly muttered as she hurried out of the back yard. She swiftly shoved aside the contrary thought that she didn’t have anything with which to write that note and hurried across the yard anyway.

  Seconds later, she eased the gate closed with a quiet click and rested her forehead against it momentarily while she willed herself to stop shaking. All the while she had been making her escape, M
olly had expected to hear her aunt’s high-pitched petulant whine demand that she return to the house at once. Worse, that Oscar would appear before her and demand to know what she was doing. If he did, Molly knew that she would have no choice but to turn around and go back into the house and might never be able to leave again.

  With a shudder, Molly glanced at the terraced house behind her.

  “I would rather die,” Molly murmured fervently, with a bitter determination that was uncharacteristic of her. Just seeing the dratted house seemed to taunt her about the changes she had endured in her life and they weren’t good ones.

  “Molly? What are you doing out here, dear?” Mrs Taunton, a rather too curious neighbour asked suddenly.

  Molly whirled to face her and mentally groaned when she saw the old woman gazing steadily at the bag she held. She knew that just as soon as the old woman had said ‘goodbye’, she would be knocking on the door of Edith’s house to enquire politely where Molly was going with such a large bag.

  “I am just delivering these to a friend,” Molly replied. Her gaze turned challenging. “Why?”

  Completely unprepared for Molly’s brazenness, the old woman blinked owlishly.

  “I say, are you all right?” Mrs Taunton asked, her dark eyes as shrewd as Edith’s were spiteful.

  “I am perfectly fine,” Molly replied. “Yourself?”

  Mrs Taunton nodded, but her gaze remained thoughtfully locked on the bag.

  “Is your friend poorly, dear?”

  “No. Why should you ask that?” Molly asked.

  “It just doesn’t seem like something someone would take to a poorly friend,” Mrs Taunton replied, pointing a gnarled finger at the bag.

  “It is laundry, if you must know. A friend in need and all that,” Molly replied. She lifted her brows. “Is that a problem? Would you like to check it?”

  “I must say, you and that brother of yours are a secretive pair,” Mrs Taunton muttered.

  “Oh? What would you know about Oscar?” Molly demanded, trying her hardest to ignore the wild leap of her heart.