Page 60 of Reckless At Raleigh High
“No. I respect your time, Silver,” Dr. Coombes says. “You set aside an hour to teach a lesson, so I’ll pay you for it. It’s only right.”
I object, but it’s no good. He makes it impossible for me to refuse his money, which makes me feel like a fucking monster. I get back in the car with a sinking, oily, unpleasant feeling swirling around in my stomach.
Halfway home, I notice that I’m being followed.
Dread begins to churn like a piston below my ribs.
Way too close, riding my tail, the truck is black and gleaming, its windows tinted out, making it impossible to see who’s behind the steering wheel. The vehicle’s expensive. Must have cost a pretty penny. I only know of one family who’d be able to afford a truck like that. Caleb Weaving’s assets were all frozen when he was arrested, but it sounds like he’s been negotiating all kinds of bullshit agreements with the powers that be. If he could swing getting Jake released after everything he did, then it stands to reason that he could also arrange for at least some of his vast fortune be made available to his wife and son.
“You’ve gotta bekiddingme.”There’s no one in the Nova to hear me but it had to be said. Technically Jake isn’t breaking any laws by following me across town, but the way he shadows me, moving from lane to lane, taking every turn I take, is an intimidation tactic for sure.
My heart jackrabbits in my chest as I reach for my phone and pull up Alex’s number. By the sixth ring, I realize that he isn’t going to pick up. Shaking all over, I call Dad instead.
“Hey, kiddo. What’s up? Thought you were teaching the Coombes boys?”
God, he’s only just calmed down after he found out Jake had been released. This is gonna send him flying off the handle again. “I’m being followed, Dad. I think it’s Jake.”
Dad’s voice is as icy as the seventh level of hell. “Where are you?”
“On Court Avenue, about to cross, uh…Lederman.”
“You’re close to the hospital. Go straight there, Silver. Run every red light if you have to. I’m leaving the house right now. I’ll meet you there. Stay on the phone, kiddo.”
“Okay.”
I’m still trying to tell myself that I might be overreacting as I take a left and gun the Nova’s engine, speeding in the direction of the hospital. The truck takes the same left, speeding up, inching dangerously close, though, bursting that idea like a bubble.
He's going to run you off the road. He couldn’t break you when he fucked you. He didn’t break you when he tried to hang you. Now he’s gonna force you into a ditch in the rain, and Alex is going to lose you in the exact same way he lost Ben, and…
God, stop! Just fuckingstop!
I silence the panicked voice in my head, forcing it to be silent. I need to think. The hospital’s still three or four miles away. Between here and there, there isn’t much of anything, just one long, winding stretch of road bracketed by tall trees. The occasional house, set back from the road. There’s nowhere for me to go but straight. Behind me, the truck’s engine roars and the vehicle surges forward like a leashed dog, pulling at its chain.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Where the hell is Alex? Where the hellishe?
The skies are clear now, but it rained all morning. The temperature plummeted at some point this afternoon, and now the roads are slick with ice. I come heartstoppingly close to skidding off the road when I take a corner a little too quickly. The car coasts, swinging wildly through the turn, and for one horrible moment the brakes do absolutely nothing.
This is it.
This is it.
This is when I fucking die.
The truck’s horn blares out like some sort of warped victory cry. Only…the Nova’s wheels gain traction, biting into the blacktop, finding purchase, and suddenly I’m tearing forward again.
Focus. Drive. Just fuckingdrive. You’ve got this. You can do it.
It takes forever to get to the hospital. I pull into the parking lot, drenched in a cold sweat, the Nova’s wheels screeching as I burn toward the familiar sight of Dad’s silver van. The truck follows after me, right on my tail.
I come to a jarring halt next to the van and Dad climbs out, brandishing a gleaming black weapon in his hands.
“Holy fuck! DAD!” I scream, but he doesn’t hear me. He’s fixed on the menacing black monster that’s barreling right for us.
CRACK!
CRACK!
