#1  New York Times  bestselling author Lisa Jackson draws readers into a tension-filled story of suspense, as a woman’s secret past returns with a vengeance . . .   Kate Summers’ teenage son, Jon, has been having nightmares. Someone is chasing him, the footsteps drawing relentlessly nearer. Jon can’t see the man’s face. He only senses that danger is coming—and there’s no way to stop it.   “Never tell anyone he’s not your boy,” was the warning. And Kate hasn’t. Not since the day fifteen years ago when she was offered what she most wanted—a healthy newborn baby. He was hers to keep, provided she moved far away, for good. She’s kept her word, raising Jon in a small Oregon town, lying to him for both their sakes. Despite his gift—or curse—of premonition, Jon hasn’t divined that he was adopted illegally. But now Kate’s long-ago choices are engulfing the life she’s tried to build.   Daegan O’Rourke has come to this remote corner of the Pacific Northwest to find answers only Kate can give. He understands why she’s wary of him, but there’s a far greater threat at hand. Someone is tracking Jon down—ready to kill him and anyone who gets in the way. And convincing Kate to trust him, even once she knows the whole shocking truth, is Daegan’s only hope of keeping them alive . . . LISA JACKSON  is the #1  New York Times  bestselling author of more than seventy-five novels, including  One Last Breath,   You Will Pay, After She’s Gone,   Close to Home,   Tell Me, Deserves to Die,   You Don’t Want to Know,   Running Scared,  and  Shiver . She has over thirty million copies of her books in print in nineteen languages. She lives with her family and three rambunctious dogs in the Pacific Northwest. Readers can visit her website at www.lisajackson.com and find her on Facebook. Running Scared By LISA JACKSON KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP. Copyright © 2018 Susan Lisa Jackson All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4967-1046-8 Contents Prologue: Boston, Massachusetts 1980, Book One: Jon 1995, Book Two: Daegan 1968–1990, Book Three: Kate 1995, Epilogue, CHAPTER 1 Run, run, run! Jon raced through the dark city, his sneakers slapping against the wet pavement, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would explode. Piles of dirty slush lined the unfamiliar streets, snow fell from the sky, dancing in the pools of light cast by the streetlamps. Far away he heard the sound of a siren and over it all the muted strains of a Christmas carol. "God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay ..." Where the hell was he? And who was chasing him? Killer. The word rang through his brain. What? The one who wants you dead. As in dead and buried. Six feet underground, covered in ripe soil ... No! Breathless, he glanced over his shoulder and saw a looming shadow, dark and swift, a weapon in one gloved hand as it swept the poorly lit streets. God help me. Jon turned sharply, slipping and catching himself with one hand, to sprint forward, into a narrow alley, where the cheery Christmas lights no longer blinked, where only dark oblivion awaited him. Please don't let this be a dead end, he silently prayed as the sounds of the carol oozed through the night. "... to save us all from Satan's power when we have gone astray ..." He nearly ran into the brick wall. Oh, God, a blind alley! He heard the sounds of his pursuer so close behind, felt his skin crawl, and his soul go numb as he turned and knew that there was no way out ... Jon Summers opened his mouth to scream ... And woke up with a jolt. He was shaking, the sheets of his twin bed wet with sweat, his heart tattooing in his eardrums as the recurring dream ... the nightmare he knew to be a premonition, faded into the gray light of dawn. He let out his breath and hoped to God that he hadn't screamed aloud and woken his mother. Fingers twisting in the bed sheets, he slowly let out his breath and knew, deep in his heart, that his dream was a foreshadowing of events to come. They might not play out exactly as he'd envisioned, but they sure as hell were going to play out. Oh, God, why me? he wondered as he always did whenever a vision passed behind his eyes. The ones at night scared the hell out of him and the ones during the day ... well, he just had to hide those or else all the other kids would think he was a freak — not that they didn't already. Kicking off the tangled sheet, he ran a hand around his jaw and felt a little bit of stubble on his chin. He needed a smoke and knew his mother wouldn't approve. She didn't approve of much he did these days, but she'd really flip out if she knew about this latest vision. Swiping the sweat from his forehead, he pushed Houndog out of the way, climbed out of bed, and plowed through the towels and clothes on the floor of his closet. Without turning on a light, he kneeled down, his fingers skimming the baseboard until he found the spot where he'd rolled up the carpet and cut a hole in the floorboards this past summer. Inside was his stas