Page 119 of Forever Never
“I’ll come with you,” Remi said suddenly.
“Where? To my parents’?”
“Yeah. They can’t misunderstand you or downplay it if I’m there telling them to their faces it’s all true. They can’t try to make you go back to him if I’m there to kick them in the balls into supporting you.”
“You’re a good friend, Remi,” Camille said as the car began to climb into the hills. It was a moonless night, and the sky was thick with clouds. The snow was deeper here, and tree boughs bending under the weight flashed by in the headlights.
“After your parents and the lawyer, you should come home with me,” Remi said suddenly.
“To Mackinac?” Camille asked. “I have to admit, it sounds idyllic from your description.”
“Oh, not in the dead of winter. But you’ll be safe there. It’s this beautiful, quiet snow globe. You could really get away. No one in their right mind would follow you there,” Remi promised.
“Hmm. Will I meet Brick?”
“Brick?” Remi repeated innocently.
“You’ve never said as much, but I put a few things together. Brick is the guy who broke your heart, isn’t he?”
“Can anyone break your heart when you’re young and dumb?” Remi asked airily.
“You’ve still got a heart even when you’re young and dumb.”
“Ugh. Brick and I may have had our differences. But I wouldn’t say he broke my heart.”
“Oh, so it was someone else then,” Camille said slyly.
Remi snuck a look at her profile behind the wheel. Her friend was smiling.
“No. He was the one who temporarily dented my ego.”
“Ah, dented your ego. That sounds much safer than broke your heart.”
“Let’s talk about what you’re packing,” Remi said, changing the subject.
A set of headlights appeared in the rearview mirror. High beams that looked as if they were approaching much too fast.
“Remi. It’s him.” Camille said, her hands tightening around the steering wheel.
“Maybe it’s just a drunk—”
But the car didn’t slow around the bend. They could hear the squeal of tires, the revving engine over the music.
“Call 911,” Remi said a split second before the sound of metal crunching into metal rang out.
The Mercedes lurched forward and across the double yellow line. Camille gave a shrill yelp while Remi upended her own purse in her lap and grabbed her phone.
Camille was crying silent tears. The hope, the plans from moments ago seemed to vanish into the dark.
“911, what is your emergency?”
Before Remi could speak, Camille gave a heart-rending sob as the headlights got closer, blinding them in the mirrors.
“He’s trying to kill us,” Camille whispered.
“I won’t let him,” Remi said.
“What is your emergency?” the operator repeated.
