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Temptation flickered in her exhausted mind. She could tell him she was being followed. He would help?—
“Daddy!” A little girl with blonde pigtails popped up from behind the back seat. She waved a pink plastic pony at him. “Hurry!” She looked barely two years old.
Shit. Grace swerved, heading away from the man and his baby daughter. No way was she putting a kid at risk by asking for help. Some lines were not meant to be crossed.
She checked over her shoulder. The two men had left the store, their dark coats and sunglasses creating ominous silhouettes against the cloudy sky.
Shit, shit. Keep moving.
Grace reached her car, a cold sweat dampening her palms, not daring to check if they had spotted her. Tossing her backpack onto the passenger seat, she slid behind the wheel and threw the car into reverse; the tires leaving dark, ugly scars in the pristine snow. She slammed the gearshift into drive and tramped on the gas. The engine roared, the steering wheel biting into her palms as she white-knuckled it toward the exit. Maybe she was catastrophizing. Lots of men wore black coats and went to the supermarket. But they could have been looking for her and she’d die before she let him drag her back into his world.
Almost had already.
Her heart clenched as she floored the car, taking the first ramp to the busy freeway, where she merged with the traffic. Road signs flickered past in a blur as she lost all sense of time, every nerve honed searching for signs of her pursuers. Finally, her heart rate calmed. No one was on her tail.
Alone again.
Signage flashed overhead—Aurora Cove, five miles. The name meant nothing. She palmed the crumpled map on the passenger seat, but it was too difficult to read in the evening gloom that permeated the car. Fat snowflakes hit the windscreen, obscuring the surrounding landscape.
In her panic, she didn’t know what direction she’d taken. How long had it been? It was dark already. She rolled her hands on the steering wheel. Her stomach was a hard knot of hunger and her eyes were dry from lack of sleep. She needed a break.
She eased up on the accelerator and took the first exit ramp, a thick forest rising around her. The road to Aurora Cove was narrow and twisty, overhung with trees that blotted out the small amount of moonlight piercing the cloud. A shudder thrummed against her palms, the steering wheel suddenly loose and unresponsive.
Black ice.
Desperate, she wrenched the wheel, but the car refused to deviate from its trajectory. adrenalin sluiced through her veins, forcing a sharp gasp from her lungs.
Time slowed, each thwack of the wiper blades marking the passing of labored seconds. Her mind raced, grasping at fragments of half-remembered driving lessons. Steer into the skid, right? Regain control.
Crowded tree trunks, illuminated by her flickering headlights, disoriented her. Everything blurred except the rushing approach of the forest.
The Ford slammed into solid wood. The seatbelt snapped taut, the sudden resistance sending shockwaves through her body as the car’s rear lifted off the ground. Momentum carried her forward, into the detonating airbag with breathtaking force, before the world convulsed and went black.
3
Asteel vice tightened around Grace’s head, a relentless force escalating by the minute. Her trembling fingers met skin, not metal, but the moisture on her fingertips hinted at something ominous. In the dim light of the car’s interior, black glistened—the viscous aftermath of a head wound.
She gingerly touched her forehead, confirming the stickiness—blood. Swallowing against the surge of nausea, she took a shaky breath, each inhalation unfurling ribbons of pain through her chest. She forced herself to meet her gaze in the rear-view mirror.
Alive. I’m alive. I can do this.
Steam wafted from the crumpled hood through the windscreen. Soft clicks filled her ears as she futilely turned the ignition. She squinted, focusing through the glass, her heart sinking at the warped metal. The car wasn’t going to start.
She fumbled with the seatbelt with trembling fingers until it released with a loud click. Relief flooded her body as the tension across her chest eased and she could breathe easier. She pulled the door handle and tumbled from the car, landing on all fours in the wet snow, the cooling engine ticking loudly near her ears.
“Breathe, Grace. Breathe. You’re alive. Alive.”
Pushing up on wobbly knees, her breath formed clouds in the frigid air that stung any exposed skin. A quick glance in the wing mirror revealed a cut on her hairline—small but bloody. Experience whispered reassurance. She’d survive. After all, she’d faced far worse under Richard’s tutelage.
Stars blazed overhead, more brilliant than any she’d ever witnessed before, but still, indifferent to her plight.
Right.
She tramped around to the other side of the car and, wrenching open the creaking passenger door, shouldered her backpack. She zipped her jacket and tucked her scarf closer to fend off the biting cold. Her fingers were already almost numb. She clapped them together, then rammed them under her arms while she hopped from foot to foot to get her pulse up.
Okay, what now?
The darkest night surrounded her. Light sucking blackness interrupted only by diamond studs of stars. Fat snow flakes descended lazily, adding a bonus layer of moisture to her already wet jacket. Trees crowded her in all directions save for the road.
