Page 90 of Undone

The mustang’s engine revs.

My head snaps up.

My heart pounds.

My eyes meet his dark ones in the rearview.

‘Game on,’ his challenge.

My hands clench the wheel. There’s no way my beat-up Honda can out run his tricked out, after market Mustang. It must be new. Or I just never knew he had it.

But I’ll be damned if Smith gets the better of me again. He can’t just show up when another man sniffs my scent and try to piss all over me; marking me as his.

With shaking hands, I put the Honda is reverse.

“Come on,” I thump the dash. “Just this once you need to perform like a sports car.”

He’s on my ass as I exit the garage and switch lanes, merging onto the ramp to the freeway. Anger heats my blood.

I want him.

I hate him.

I see his face every time I close my eyes…

He haunts me.

And just for once—I want to outrun him—banish him from my thoughts… leaving every trace of him in the dust. I want him to feel what it’s like to not have the one thing you want.

I know I won’t win on the open road. I’ll use everything Rog taught me and wait. I’ll draw him into the web of interconnecting streets filled with suburban homes. I’ll pretend that I know I’m caught; a trapped rabbit ensnared by him and when he least expects—I’ll punch the gas and hopefully evade capture.

The ride to Springdale will take about forty-five minutes. Smith sends me a half-dozen texts ordering me to pull over. Of course, I ignored all of them.

But then he changes lanes.

The powerful Mustang is inches away as he pulls alongside me in the passing lane. He honks, his face full of fury as he gestures for me to pull over. I turn my head away and raise my middle finger. He cuts in front of me.

“Big Mistake. Big Mistake…,” I mutter, seeing an opportunity. I wait until the last second, as we pass the first exit to Springdale, then pull the wheel.

Smith already passed it.

Even if he stops at seventy miles an hour and reverses… he still won’t catch up. I don’t even slow down as I exit and turn left then right. There’s not as many turns, but Dev took me to this part of town once; to the Old Mill where Rog had taken her on their first, of many romantic dates. I pull into the snowy lane fishtailing, and park behind the newly renovated Maple Mill Inn.

I breath hard and cut the engine.

Either I’m safe or I’m screwed.

I hang my head and wait.

“Are you okay in there?”

My Honda honks when my elbow accidentally presses the center of the wheel. “Sorry! You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well, that’s a first.” The woman answers dryly. Her thick puffer coat molds to her grandmotherly form. Spectacles rest at the tip of her nose. She steps back as I exit the car and the scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and cloves comes off her. “Come inside. It’s freezing out here and we’re expecting another storm.”

I open the back door and take out my travel bag. “Any chance you have a room?”

Her eyes twinkle as she turns to look at me. “I have plenty. We’re closed for renovations, but I’ll let you in…. you being the newest celebrity who needs a place to hide.”

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