Dead Running by Cami Checketts

get you home.”
    I sighed and started jogging again.
    “We need to call the police,” he said.
    “No!” My answer was too forceful, Jesse’s brows rose in question. “No,” I repeated more softly. “They didn’t do anything to me so there’s nothing to report.” Jesse looked ready to argue. “You just caught me at a bad moment. I’ve been a mess since finding the body.” I couldn’t hide the tremor zipping through me. I upped my pace to give vent to the nervous energy.
    Jesse nodded, his eyes filled with compassion. “Anyone would be.” He paused then said, “I don’t like to think about any guy but me bothering you while you’re out running.” He gave me a smile that made me forget everything but his face.
    I concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other so I didn’t fling myself into his arms again. “They won’t be back,” I said, trying to convince myself more than Jesse.
    “They better not,” he muttered.
    We ran in silence for a few minutes. Jesse kept looking at me, as if to check how I was doing.
    “Why are blonde jokes so short?” he asked.
    What? I stared at him for several seconds before giving in, “I don’t know, why?”
    “So brunettes can remember them.”
    I laughed. It was nice. Jesse kept telling me silly jokes the entire distance to my house. It was my second rescue by the tattooed doctor. I hoped if I needed more rescuing, Jesse would be there.

    *           *           *

    I didn’t have an appetite or any desire to run the next day as I stewed about what to do. Should I call the police? They couldn’t even find the Health Days murderer, how would they find some guy in Mexico who looked like my dad? Should I tell Nana or Jared? Jared would become even more overprotective of me, I didn’t need him hovering. Nana wasn’t an option. I couldn’t bring myself to cause her stress with her blood pressure already an issue and my constant worry of her having a heart attack. Plus, something about the look in Muscle Man’s eyes decimated my desire to confide in anybody. I would bear this burden on my own. Maybe he’d leave me alone like he promised.
    I couldn’t allow myself to think about how scared I’d been or the remote possibility that my parents were alive and being hunted at this moment by Muscle Man. That thought was so sickening it almost overwhelmed me.
    “Seven miles. I’m supposed to run seven miles tomorrow morning,” I explained to Tasha and Nana at dinner Tuesday night.
    I cringed thinking about being alone on the road, in the dark, with the possibility of those two freaks grabbing me again. “How on earth am I supposed to run seven miles, lift weights, and still make it to work on time?” My Nazi boss would dock my bonuses if I were a minute late.
    Tasha and Nana arched their eyebrows at the same time. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you started this insane program,” Nana said.
    Tasha took advantage of Nana focusing on me to hide half of her meatloaf in her napkin. I wished I could execute sneaky food-disposal techniques like my friend.
    I pushed the peas around my plate before scooping up another bite. “I know it seems nuts, but it’s going to be a great thing for me, Nana.” I turned to Tasha just as she dive-bombed a chunk of mashed potatoes into her milk and winked at me. Luckily for her, Nana didn’t notice.
    Tasha politely nibbled at a slice of homemade bread, looking innocent of any meat and potato subterfuge. Nana noticed Tasha’s almost clean plate. “Do you want some more, sweetheart?” She was armed and ready with a huge bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and a dish of meat loaf in the other.
    Tasha held up her delicate fingers. “No, I couldn’t. It was wonderful, as always.”
    Nana grinned.
    “But you didn’t finish your milk,” I said, hiding my own grin.
    Tasha scowled at me.
    “You need your calcium,” Nana said, gesturing with her hand. “Drink up.” She watched as Tasha