Page 17 of Too Cursed To Kiss
It took me a couple of tries, but I managed to punch my address into the map. It was six hours to get home. Home. My apartment flashed in my head like an oasis in the desert.
Ipulled back onto the road, but as it curved, I saw the house. With a screech of rubber, I skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding the ditch. The sinister sprawling Victorian was painted a deep green, almost black. Even the windows were painted over. It had a full wraparound porch and was at least three stories, maybe four with the turrets. For no reason I could fathom, the house beckoned,Come inside. The spectral crawling feeling like I was being watched made no sense. Iglanced over my shoulder to make sure the back seat was empty. Nothing was behind me.
“I am not falling for whatever this is. I’m going home,” I said, stomping on the accelerator. The winding roads took me to the highway, and I switched the audio on. Chest thumping metal fueled my speed.
In four hours, I was breathing almost normally, but I noticed I was running low on gas. That was about the same time red and blue lights flashed behind me.
Christ, this was going to be a special conversation.
With a string of expletives, I maneuvered the car to the shoulder, then leaned over to check the glove compartment. It didn’t have anything that it should have had in it, but it had a gun. Was I ever screwed. Tears welled in my eyes as everything sank in. I leaned back in the seat and rolled down the window, piecing together a story to explain why I was speeding in a seriously damaged stolen car without registration or insurance, wondering what my first meal in jail would be, and whether I’d survive there longer than Mama.
CHAPTER TEN
My heart pounded with every crunching step of the motorcycle cop’s approach. His flashlight lit up the back windows, and I braced myself for the inevitable first question as the beam swept across the dashboard.
A car coming from behind flashed the rearview mirror. A second later, its roar caught the cop’s attention, slowing him down. My jaw dropped as the car swerved over two lanes and, with a grinding crash, plowed the officer’s motorcycle into the back of my car. I screamed as the impact hurled me forward.
The black SUV reversed with a squealing crunch of gravel, then accelerated like it meant to ram me again. I wasn’t sticking around to find out.
The cop had already dived into the ditch.
I started the car and floored it. Whatever kind of vehicle this was, it had guts. Finally, those safe driver classes my aunt paid for at the racetrack were worth something. But the other car was gaining. I needed to change tactics. The police would be on us too. It was time to find cover and another car. I swerved onto the off-ramp, glanced for traffic, and blew through a red light, screeching left across the intersection.
The road was dark, tree-lined, and pitted with potholes. Damn it, I should have turned right. Too late now. I gunned it, adrenaline flooding me. A pickup loomed ahead. I swerved, narrowly missing it, then sped up, taking the next turn at tire-burning speed. The fuel light blinked on.
Two more tight curves, and the SUV’s headlights were gone. The car skidded on the next turn spraying gravel, but I wrangled control and pulled into the first driveway. Time to hide.
I cut the engine, switched off the lights, and held my breath. The house attached to the driveway looked more like a dilapidated two-story shack. No lights on. Maybe it was abandoned. I had to ditch this car and find another ride.
Grabbing the gun like it was a venomous scorpion, I opened the car door. I’d had a few days at the shooting range. If I fired it, there was a chance I’d hit something or someone.
The grind of metal gears from the backseat turned my blood cold. I whipped around, gun raised, as the back seat tipped forward. My hand trembled. My heart thundered. I should’ve been running. Instead, I froze in fury.
Wald poked his sunglasses-wearing head out of the trunk. I lowered the gun, seething but relieved.
“That was one hell of a ride, Tails,” he said, clambering out of the velvet-lined box, which, apparently, had an escape hatch.
I raised the gun back up. “Stay right there. I’m leaving this car, and you, right now.” My hands were still shaking from the escape, and now I was facing Wald with a loaded gun. Ihatedguns.
“The safety’s on,” he said,smirking.
I flipped it off. “Now it’s not.”
He opened the back door. I kept the gun trained on him, fully aware I was one squeeze away from hurting him.
“Go ahead and shoot me if you want,” he said. “But I’m coming with you.”
Shooting him might wipe that maddening grin off his face. And those sunglasses.
Tires crunched down the street. We both turned.
“They found us,” I said, voice cracking.
“Go. Now,” Wald ordered as the car careened into the driveway.
But I was frozen, torn between melting into the earth and needing to see who it was. Besides, I didn’t like being ordered around. By some miracle, the bumper was still attached to my car from the ramming. Must be reinforced.
The black SUV door opened. A man as tall as Wald stepped out. Blond hair. Black suit. Black leather gloves. His face looked human until the dark-haired driver got out. The first man grew taller than Wald, and his face twisted, revealing massive teeth and huge, alien-like all black eyes.
