Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Isprinted down the sidewalk. I glanced over my shoulder when I was at the end of the townhome line. Robin Hood watched me go, his stern expression raising goose bumps on my forearms. He was loyal to his Alpha and would stop at nothing to get me back. He dashed inside the car and started the engine.
I wouldn’t be able to outrun a car. He’d drive up to me, get out of the car, and catch me.
I wouldn’t be able to hide, either. With his extra-sensitive hearing, sight, and smell, I’d be like an unmoving target to an Olympic archer.
I had to lose him before I could go anywhere else.
I twisted my head left and right, not knowing exactly what I was searching for.
A few feet away, at the end of a row of parked cars, a teenage girl took off her helmet and secured her electric bicycle around a metal pole.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” I shouted and dashed toward her.
She gave me a flat, unimpressed gaze.
“I’m so sorry. I really need to borrow your bike,” I said, looking behind me.
Robin Hood backed out of the driveway.
The girl followed my gaze and nodded toward the car. “Is he your ex?” Her voice was as dull as her eyes.
“No, no, he’s one of the men belonging to my…ex,” I said in a strangled voice. “Please, I know it’s crazy to ask a stranger, but I really need your help.”
“Men are assholes,” she said, and I raised my eyebrows.
Dark circles smudged the skin beneath her eyes, her face was blotchy, and her eyelids were swollen. She handed me her helmet and pulled her ebike from the bike stand. The helmet had neon-green spikes, matching the girl’s fingerless bike gloves.
“Here. I hope at least you end up having a better day than me,” she said, and the traces of a small smile lifted the corners of her lips.
“Thank you so much.”
Because of compassionate people like her, I thought I would be fine living among humans. Good people were out there, willing to help a stranger without expecting anything in return.
I thanked her again and twisted the handlebar, pedaling as the ebike accelerated down the sidewalk. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Robin Hood’s car, only feet from my side.
The neighborhood was busy with people returning from work and school, increasing my chances of losing Torin’s man.
I sped downhill. A few people shouted at me to watch it and to ride on the street, but I couldn’t move there. I apologized profusely as I managed to dodge more pedestrians.
I reached an intersection with four-way crosswalks and stopped at the red light. Robin Hood braked hard, skidding tires echoing over voices and rumbling engines.
He opened his car door. I was sure he would make a run for me, but instead, he stepped one foot out of the car, one foot still inside. He twisted his body and glared at me.
“Princess,” he shouted, earning me curious stares, “don’t make it harder. Just get in the car.”
I shook my head. If I got in his car, then what? I’d be his prisoner again and would have to follow Torin’s moody whims.
The traffic light switched to green, and I was off. More tires screeched behind me from the street, but I didn’t even turn. I had laser focus on the playground structure in the distance. A metal fence separated the park from the streets.
I barely braked in time before hitting the first construction cone. Orange tape blocked the sidewalk ahead of me, sending pedestrians over to the other side.
I swerved and avoided hitting the signs for a bus stop. My bike rolled off the sidewalk, and I joined the busy traffic on the narrow street. Parked cars sat on both sides, wedged in tightly.
My breathing accelerated, and looking back at my pursuer, my chest clenched.
The light turned red in front of me, and I slowed and crept between the stopped cars—a row of impatiently waiting drivers.
Robin Hood was only two cars behind me. He got out and dashed toward me. I was almost at the front of the line and prayed for the light to turn green. I wasn’t so reckless that I’d bike through heavy traffic.
My insides quivered as Robin Hood reached for me, a foot away.
The light switched to green, and I pedaled hard down the street. His curse was muffled by loud honking and roaring car engines.
I took a sharp right, entered the park, and rode on narrow paths. I stopped close to a stone building marked as the public bathrooms.
Robin Hood double parked by a red-painted curbside, flew out the door, and sprinted toward me.
I needed him to come closer. He wouldn't shift into his wolf in front of humans.
As he closed the distance between us, he lifted his hand and placed his cell to his ear. He listened and disconnected the call.
When he was only a few feet away, I started the ebike, hid behind the bathrooms, and exited the park on the opposite side, accelerating to whatever speed the bike could handle.
Some streets had designated bike lanes, making it faster to navigate around traffic. I didn't stop for the next fifteen minutes. I didn’t stop as I randomly turned left and right in this unfamiliar neighborhood.
At the next red light, I twisted my body and scanned the area and the people, but I couldn’t spot Robin Hood anywhere.
Had he given up? Did I lose him when he had to return to his car?
People rushed about their business while my heart pounded against my chest so hard that I had to stop and take deep breaths.
I rolled the bike to the closest bus station and studied the map and the bus schedule.
Sweat beaded my forehead under the helmet. I was sure steam was coming out of the small vents on top of it.
The red bus appeared on the street, heading my way, but I didn’t have money or my phone to buy a ticket.
Panic swirled in my stomach. I memorized the way to the next bus stop, finger-tracing the red line and street names, and got on the ebike. Ten minutes later, I arrived at the next bus stop.
I read the stop’s name and looked at the map again. There was nowhere else to go except to my best friend’s. Tammy’s neighborhood was on the opposite side of town. Not exactly a bike trip.
The night lamps flickered on when the last bit of daylight hid behind the buildings. The cold, short days also made it impossible to ride to Tammy’s.
An older lady walked out of a brightly lit convenience shop behind the bus stop. She rolled her bag behind her and sat on the bus bench. She reminded me of Lisa.
I kept my eyes on the store door, and after a moment, a young man walked out and stepped onto the sidewalk. His backpack was strapped on his back, and he held a soda bottle in one hand and his phone in the other.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” I said, coming up to him. “I lost my phone while riding my bike.”
I pointed to the ebike I left leaning against the back partition of the bus stop.
“May I please use your phone to call my friend? I’ll stay right here,” I said.
Suspicion flickered behind his eyes, but he must have thought I didn’t look like a serial killer because he unlocked his phone and handed it to me.
Good thing I had memorized Tammy’s number. I had no one else to call, and the chances of her answering were slim. She was on vacation, after all.
But she could have left a spare key with a neighbor. I could spend the night at her place.
No, I couldn’t. That’d be the first place Torin’s men would search. And the second was my apartment.
There was nowhere to run or hide.
At least I could hear Tammy’s voice. As I held the phone against my ear, my throat thickened, constricting it, and fatigue settled over my body.
“Hello?”
I tried hard not to cry at the sound of my best friend’s wispy voice. “Tammy, it’s me. I don’t have my phone on me.”
“Oh my gosh, where are you, Bree?” she squeaked. “Why do you sound like you’re going to cry? What happened?”
“I’m…fine. Torin stole my book.” I hoped she’d remember my cryptic story about people attacking me for the book. “I just wanted to hear your voice, girl.”
Tammy took a sharp breath. “I knew it. Something felt off about this man. Where are you? I’m coming to see you.”
My mouth fell open. After I recovered, I said, “You aren’t in Milan?”
“Girl, I thought you’d figure out I wouldn’t agree to a strange request to pack up and go on vacation. I felt like you were in trouble. I wouldn’t leave you alone, Bree. I’m in my apartment.”
“Yes!” I shouted and startled the guy in front of me.
He narrowed his eyes at me, and his foot tapped on the cement.
“I’ll tell you everything. I’m at Archwood Station—”
“I know where it is. On my way.”
Before I could reply, she hung up, and I returned the phone to the man.
“Thank you so much.”
My faith in humanity skyrocketed, unlike my faith in the supernaturals who hunted me.