And then he turned desperate. He told me he had a way to get us free of the life we were living, a way to solve all our problems.
If I did just a couple movies, we’d have enough to settle all our debts (our debts = money he owed his dealers), and he could go to rehab, get clean for real, and then we could start a new life. A better life.
I already knew the only better life for me was one without him. I’d known for a long time. I just didn’t know how to get out. I didn’t know how to get away.
Of course I told him no. I said it as gently as I could. I promised I’d find another way to get him into rehab and out of debt.
He didn’t like my answer.
He screamed ugly things at me. The scent of that damned cinnamon schnapps gusted over my face. He told me I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice.
I tried to leave.
He hit me.
He hit me more than once.
When he passed out, I snuck out. I slept in my car that night.
Shortly after, I met Harlow. I moved out and months passed.
I thought he’d forgotten about the porn stuff. I should have known better.
The revving of an engine brought me out of the terrible memory. It was close by, and I glanced out the window in the lane beside me, then in the lane to my right. There was no car with a revving engine.
Then I heard it again.
I glanced in the rearview mirror.
A car that looked like a something you would find in a cereal box was riding my bumper so closely that I couldn’t see the front end of it at all.
My pulse spiked and adrenaline started to pump through my veins. I squinted down at the speedometer. I was traveling five miles over the speed limit so I wasn’t being slow.
Again, I scanned the lanes to my left and right. There was plenty of opportunity to pass me.
Suddenly, the car behind me swerved erratically and sped up beside me. The car was so incredibly close to the side of the BMW, I flinched, bracing for a hit.
What the hell!
I peeked over to get a look at the driver, but he yanked the steering wheel and almost smacked into me. I screamed and jerked the wheel to get away.
The car in the lane beside me laid on their horn as I cut them off.
The matchbox car was now driving in the lane I’d just been in and he was swerving around, coming close, then backing away and repeating the action over and over.
Cars around us were beeping their horns and speeding up to get around the maniac driver.
Every time I tried to pass him, he’d swerve at me again, trying to run me off the road.
Oh my God, he was trying to run me off the road.
I punched the gas and pulled onto the shoulder of the road and drove that way, passing a couple cars illegally and then taking a sharp right-hand turn to avoid my pursuer.
The sound of tires squealing and horns blaring had me looking out the back window. The car had literally cut through the traffic to follow me.
Fed up and scared out of my mind, I slammed on the brakes, jerking the car to a sudden halt. I pulled to the side of the street and sat there.
Let him come.
I was sooo not in the mood for this today.
The matchbox car rolled down the street toward me, almost creeping. It was freaky because I felt like I was being stalked. Hunted.
I hated it.
I rolled my window down just as he slid up beside me.
His window was down too.
He was wearing a hat pulled low over his face, an oversized sweatshirt, and a pair of sunglasses. He lifted his arm, pointing something in his hand at me.
My mouth fell open and I froze.
Was that a gun?
“No!” I shrieked and threw my hands up in front of my face.
The tires screeched as the car jerked to a halt.
Slowly, I pulled my hands away and looked at the man holding out a gun. Even though he was wearing shades, I felt it when our eyes connected.
“Shit,” he mouthed.
Then he lowered the gun and sped away.
I collapsed against the seat, breathing like I’d just run a marathon.
That man had tried to run me off the road and then he meant to shoot me!
I don’t know what scared him away, why he suddenly changed his mind, but I was grateful.
I could be dead right now.
26
Adam
I went through the glove box of Roxie’s Mazda. The receipt for the so-called new air conditioner was there. She paid a shit ton of money and they screwed her.
It pissed me off.
I noted the address of the place, then jammed the receipt in my pocket and let myself in the club. Everything looked in order, the place was clean and ready to open tonight.
I went in my office, read through the short but thorough report Cam jotted on a bar napkin, and then checked my messages.
Once I answered the most urgent shit, I palmed the keys to Roxie’s car and locked up the club.
The repair place was about ten miles down the road, so I pulled out onto the main drag and stopped immediately at a red light. I’d been in this car for all of two minutes, with the windows down, and I was already sweating and miserable.
It pissed me off even more.
When the light turned green, I gassed it, hoping to get some airflow in this tomb. As I went through the intersection, I noted a red sports car pull out behind me. I might not have noticed, but it was a sweet ride and I liked sweet rides.
I got an even better look at it when it pulled up right behind me.
I got this feeling in my gut. It wasn’t a good one. I kept driving down the road, glancing at the car every few seconds. It was definitely following me.
Since this was Roxie’s car, that meant whoever that asshole was back there probably thought they were following her.
Oh, hell no.
I jerked the wheel into a nearby parking lot. Ironically, it was an auto repair shop. I didn’t bother pulling into a parking spot.
The red car pulled into the lot behind me, rolling across the pavement toward the Mazda. I unhooked my seatbelt and sprang out of my driver’s seat. Red tinged my vision and my teeth gritted together.
This better not be who I thought it was.
I’d fucking beat his ass.
Then I’d run him over.
Leaving the car door open, I rose to my full height, letting the pumping adrenaline fuel my muscles, and walked toward the car traveling closer.
I stared at the windshield where I knew the driver sat. The glare of the sun on the glass made it impossible to see who was driving. I didn’t really care. Whoever this was needed to know following around Roxie was a giant hell no.
The car slowed as I marched toward it. Challenge was clear in my presence. Then the car shifted into reverse and backed away.
I started running.
The tires peeled, leaving behind a little cloud of smoke as the car sped down the street, hung a left, and drove out of sight.