Chapter 22 #2
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aro look over at me. I grind the wheel in my fists.
I’m not used to making decisions for other people. Especially out of this group.
My pulse quickens, and I’m afraid to talk or loosen my grip, because I’m shaking.
But I keep going. Following. Daring him—or her—to lead me.
Dylan’s phone connects to the car, and the next track from her playlist starts—“You Stupid Girl.” I hold back my laugh. If that isn’t a sign for me to retreat, I don’t know what is.
Staring at the lone figure in the vehicle ahead, I catch the slight movement in their rearview mirror.
They’re watching us too.
Reaching over, I switch off the headlights, my heart skipping every other beat.
“Quinn?” Aro prompts, alarmed.
The car accelerates. So do I.
What would I do if they stopped?
But they keep going, leading me away from the parties and the lights. Taking us somewhere private.
I hear fingers tap on screens and know Dylan and Aro are tattling on me. “Oh, come on, guys,” I tease under my breath. “It’s my turn.”
Dylan expels a sigh with a little growl, knowing she and Aro have done their fair share of stupid things. I might be too old for it now, but I guess that’s a matter of who I’m comparing myself against. My brothers still do stupid stuff all the time.
The Dodge vaults forward, and I press the gas.
“Faster,” Dylan urges.
“Pedestrians,” I retort.
I’ve got this, but I’m not going to risk hitting someone.
The Dodge turns, and I follow, the hair on my arms rising as I push the envelope.
I don’t like speed, and I don’t like recklessness, but every moment sinks me further into danger, and I feel like someone new.
Anticipation of all the possibilities for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next starts to fill my chest, and I’m taking in more and more air.
The Dodge jets off, propelling forward, and the girls start yelling.
“Go, go!” Dylan screams.
Followed by Aro, “Don’t lose ’em!”
I punch the gas, rounding another turn. My tires screech as the Dodge cuts right, then left, and I skid around after it.
But when I turn again, it’s gone.
I gape. “What…?”
We coast down the street, all of us pinned to the windows and scanning the side streets. Where the hell did it go?
And where is Lucas? He would’ve followed me.
Approaching Jared’s shop, I see the lights are all off, no one in sight, and the fireworks have stopped. The black night presses against the car on all sides, and I barely breathe as I scan for any sign of movement. Or headlights.
Shit.
“What should we do?” Aro searches out her window, through the streaks of rain. “Go back to the parties?”
“It’s here,” I tell them.
I know it is.
I’ll drop them off if they really don’t want any part of this, but the Night Rider is around. They’re playing with me.
Aro’s phone buzzes, lighting up her face as she looks down. “Hawke,” she tells us. She opens it and reads the text, “‘Behind you.’”
She and Dylan jerk their heads over their shoulders, and I lift my eyes to the rearview mirror.
Shrouded in the dark night, far behind us, it’s there. No headlights. The old grill. The bent license plate. The blackened windows.
I hold back the thrill bubbling in my chest, whispering, “There you are.”
My scalp feels like the head on a glass of soda. A million delightful little pops as the chase ensues. I shift and press the gas, the car vaulting forward.
“Quinn?” Aro plants one hand on her door and the other on the back of my seat, holding on.
A trickle of sweat glides down my temple. I stop breathing, pressing the gas a little more.
Come on.
“Quinn?” Dylan says behind me.
The Stop sign ahead grows bigger. I glance in the rearview mirror again. A set of headlights appears far behind the Dodge.
Lucas.
Aro chimes in again. “Quinn?”
I slam on the brakes, halting the car at the sign. Darkness looms at my left and right as we sit just before the highway.
Behind me, the vehicle crawls closer. No lights. No movement inside.
“Quinn?”
But I don’t answer Dylan. Sucking in a breath, I spin the wheel right and punch my foot so hard on the gas, I hit the floor. Tires screech under us, Dylan and Aro gasp, and we shoot off, picking up speed so fast, a gust of wind whips through the windows and into my hair.
“Quinn!” Aro shouts.
The car roars, slicing through the darkness.
Aro checks the window behind us, while Dylan’s phone rings.
“Dad?” she answers.
Uh-oh. Did Lucas call him?
No, he wouldn’t have. If my brothers are around, he can’t deal with me.
“No…” she stammers to her father. “We’re—”
She falls silent as my brother yells, and I jerk the wheel, slicing to the left, the tires grinding underneath us. Gravel kicks up under the car, and I twist the wheel right. I speed down another empty country road.
Aro rocks in her seat with the uneven path, grunting as I hit potholes.
“Oh my God. Calm down,” Dylan tells her dad. “Wh—Hello?”
Great. He hung up. Everyone will be coming.
The Dodge appears in my rearview mirror—closer.
And closer.
I dart my eyes. And closer.
It races up on my ass—one, two, three sets of headlights behind them.
“When I stop, we get out of the car and run,” I tell Aro and Dylan.
“Where?” Dylan chokes out.
But Aro replies before me. “Wherever you want Hunter to come find you.”
We toss each other a look, my grateful smile met with a wink. Everyone worries about me. Aro’s decided to play along.
Cabins peek out of the trees up ahead, the soft glow of the camp lights illuminating porches and docks. The whole place is empty until next week when the next session starts, but Jax and Juliet keep security lighting almost year-round.
Except in the dead of winter when the camp is deserted.
The car is right on me. I couldn’t see its lights even if they were on.
“You guys ready?” I blurt out.
“Yeah.”
Dylan whimpers, “Sure.”
I speed ahead, gaining distance, then slam on the brakes as I veer right. We skid to a halt, I turn off the car, and all of us leap out.
I spin around, the Dodge twenty feet away, but I can’t see inside because the headlights are on now. Blinding me.
I squint, holding my hand up against the glare. Is that the Dodge?
I mean, it was, but…
“Quinn?” Aro shouts.
I glance at them both. “Go!”
It can’t chase three of us.
I slam the door shut, making it look like I’m following as they bolt into the camp and all the other buildings and hiding places to choose from.
But I don’t run. Not yet. I glance behind the Dodge. Where are the other cars?
Where’s Lucas?
Just then, Farrow’s motorcycle rolls up behind the Night Rider, the Dodge’s headlights immediately dim, and Farrow’s lights spill over the scene in front of me.
And I see that it’s not a Dodge at all.
It was, but through the trees and the dark road here, it must’ve turned off. I don’t know…
Instead, Lucas opens the door of my brother’s Boss and steps out, rising up from his seat and facing me. Chin raised and not looking amused at all.
My face falls, an electric current shooting up to the top of my head.
Oh, shit.
And just like that, I’m taken back to the last time we were here together—at this camp. Only now, he’s hunting me, not helping me.
What about the Night Rider? Where did the old black car go? If Lucas saw them turn off, he decided to pursue me instead.
Twisting on the ball of my foot, I run, digging the heel of my sneakers into the damp soil. I dive into the forest, pushing away branches as I leap and race over old leaves and toward the empty cabins. Immediately, I skid around a rack of canoes and crouch down, peeking between the stacks of boats.
Training my ears, I listen for Aro or Dylan.
But they don’t call out. They could be anywhere. The astronomy tower, the archery range, the barn, the dining hall, in one of the cabins…
The showers...
Lucas appears out of the trees, not running, and somehow that’s scarier.
Farrow is nowhere to be seen.
I watch Lucas scan the area, looking right toward the main lodge and left toward the lake. He doesn’t see me in front of him, about fifty feet away.
He grabs the hem of his soaked T-shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the ground.
His shoulders square as he moves in my direction, and I clamp my mouth shut as his gaze passes over me.
I force my breathing to slow down, afraid he’ll see my chest rising and falling between the canoes.
I don’t want to be found. This isn’t foreplay.
If he catches me, I might say something I’ll regret.
Or worse, let him finish what he started when he was holding me.
Light droplets of rain mat my hair and make his chest glow under the single overhead light at the top of the electrical pole. I’ve never run from him before. I never wanted to.
But he’s not who he used to be, and that’s who I loved. What happens tomorrow?
Looking my way, he doesn’t seem to see me, exhaling a long breath. I think he’s going to keep going, heading through the camp to keep looking, but instead, he turns. Leaving.
I open my mouth, but I stop myself at the same time he pauses in his steps.
I want him to leave. The Dodge is here somewhere. I’m on my own adventure.
Just go.
I watch him bow his head, and all I can see is the side of his face. His pinched brow is aimed at the ground as if he’s in pain. Maybe he’s wondering if he should just let me go? That way he doesn’t have to explain anything, right?
Just leave me alone.
Needles prick my throat, a picture of him getting back into his car forming in my head. Maybe, on the way home, he visits that woman Sarah whom he used to date. Perhaps he goes to bed with her tonight to forget me.
A lump rises up my throat, tears sting my eyes, and the Quinn who never wanted to be away from him wants to run to him and jump in his arms and tell him he can have me instead.
But I don’t run to him. Not this time.
He starts to leave, and I suck in a breath.
And then…