Page 63 of Faded Rhythm

Ebony stands in the door with a yapping Henry in her arms, watching us pile into a strange vehicle together with a strange man. I know this isn’t easy for her, but it’s for her own good that I leave her in the dark for now.

Maybe forever if Julian sticks around after.

But right now, I can’t even picture the next five minutes, much less the rest of my life.

My heart thuds as Julian starts the engine.

The girls chatter in the back, excited and loud, oblivious to the danger we’re all in.

I turn to look at them. “So what did y’all do with Auntie?”

“Made brownies!” Rae chirps. “And we watchedWicked.”

“Again?” I say with a chuckle. “Yall aren’t tired of that movie yet?”

I glance at Julian, unnerved when I see his eyes. Over and over, they flick to the rear and side mirrors. My nerves prickle as Kelice chatters on aboutWicked.

I place a hand gently on his thigh. “What’s wrong?”

He glances at me, giving a tight shake of his head.

I follow his line of sight. My gaze catches the edge of a shiny black car two lengths behind us.

A chill runs up my spine.

Before I can speak, his voice cuts in, sharp and focused.

“Hold on tight.”

His foot slams the gas, and the SUV lurches forward. Tires squeal. The girls scream, and my heart thuds against my chest as I quickly realize what’s happening.

Brett is coming for us.

24

Julian

The moment I sawthat car behind us, I knew.

It wasn’t just following. It was tracking—too close, and too smooth. I’ve seen that pattern a million times. A rhythm meant to blend in but just off enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck.

I check the side mirror again. Black mid-size sedan. No front plate. Driver’s leaning back, left hand draped on the wheel like he’s out for a joyride. But his eyes are locked. On us.

Sable’s hand is on my thigh, soft and warm. A jolt of tenderness flashes through me, but it’s gone in a blink. I shake my head at her. No time for softness.

“Hold on tight,” I tell her, already shifting gears.

My foot slams on the accelerator.

Screams. Tires squealing. Engine roaring. We shoot down the street, then I take a sharp left at the last second, tires skimming the edge of the curb.

The rearview mirror shakes from the torque. I glance at it. The car’s still behind us.

“Sable. Tell the girls to get down. Now.”

She doesn’t argue. With a strong, but shaky voice, she says, “Girls. Get down. Pretend you’re playing hide and seek. Right now.”

I hear their little bodies scrambling in the back.

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