Page 50 of Mr. and Mrs. Novak

RUSLAN

I follow Sophia to the parking lot. She parks her car and joins a man in dark coveralls sitting on his motorcycle. They greet each other with a nod; she puts on the helmet he hands her and climbs onto the back of the unmarked motorcycle. I clench my fists on the steering wheel. Who is this guy? I try to follow them, but it's obvious he knows what he's doing. They take winding paths, cut through alleys, and before I realize it, I lose them.

I return to the parking lot and wait. Sophia's car is here; they'll eventually come back. Indeed, they return two hours later. Sophia and the man separate immediately, each going in a different direction. My instinct drives me to stay on her. She gets into her car, and I start mine discreetly, keeping my distance.

When Sophia pulls out of the parking garage, a black sedan slips in between her and me. Two men inside. A red car wedges itself in next. I keep my distance so Sophia won’t spot me.

I follow from afar. The red car disappears, replaced by a white one, but the black sedan is still there, glued to her rear bumper. Sophia seems to have noticed too: she suddenly turns in the opposite direction from our house, testing the other driver’s reaction. The sedan stays right on her tail.

Sophia’s car slows down. The other immediately matches her speed. Behind them, the driver of the white vehicle grows impatient, honks, then overtakes them.

A cold intuition grips my chest. I press down on the accelerator, closing the gap.

A metallic gray SUV lunges in from the left, trying to force Sophia into a dark, deserted side street. Though shaken, she manages to hold her line and accelerates, her car surging forward. The SUV refuses to back off, continuing to push her toward the right.

The black sedan slams into her from behind.

No.

Absolutely not.

They won’t lay a single finger on her. Not while I’m still breathing.

Without a thought for my own safety, I act. Too focused on boxing Sophia in, they don’t see me coming. Within seconds, I’m on them. I yank the wheel hard into the black sedan, sending it off the road. It crashes head-on into a streetlight. Out of commission.

Locked onto Sophia, the SUV keeps pushing, unaware that the rules have just changed. The traffic light ahead turns red. Sophia swerves sharply to the right. I don’t give the SUV time to react and ram it from behind, sending it spinning into the middle of the intersection.

A delivery truck hits it at full speed while I turn to keep Sophia in sight.

I step on the accelerator to catch up with her. Suddenly, she brakes hard. The tires screech on the asphalt, and her vehicle skids slightly before coming to a stop across the alley. I brake just in time to avoid a collision.

Damn it, Sophia, what the hell are you doing?

I kill the engine and step out.

"Sophia!" I call as I approach her door.

She’s slumped in the seat, arms outstretched, a revolver aimed straight at me. Her hands tremble slightly, and I immediately raise mine.

"Baby, it’s me," I say, keeping my voice calm.

Her eyes are fierce, but I see the fear beneath them. She hesitates, scanning my face as if to confirm I’m not a threat. Then, her expression shifts from fear to rage.

"You crazy bastard!" she yells, finally lowering the gun. "I almost shot you! I thought—"

"It’s okay. They’re out of the game for now," I murmur. "Come on, we have to go before more show up."

Sophia stares at me, torn between distrust and tension.

"We can’t leave the car here," she says, her voice rough.

Both our cars are wrecked, but still drivable.

"Okay. Let’s find a quiet parking lot. We’ll ditch it and erase anything that connects you to it."

She hesitates, as if weighing my intentions, then finally nods.

"Fine."