muttered through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to go any faster, but they’re not giving me much of a choice.”
No, they weren’t. Damn vultures. Fear pulsing through her veins, Fliss clutched her seat belt with a trembling hand and endeavored to ignore the guy next to her, who had also crept in too close. The situation might be exciting if they were on a set shooting one of Alex’s action movies, but they weren’t. They were on a city street with a posted speed limit of twenty-five. She didn’t look at the speedometer. No need. They were well above the limit. She dug into her purse with her free hand and pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call the police.”
“We don’t have time to wait until the cops get here. They’re getting more reckless.”
With wide eyes, she took in the scene. Chaos reigned. They were surrounded on three sides by cars crowding in on them. Other drivers honked their horns and swarmed out of the way.
“Ah!” Fliss slapped a hand across her mouth when the sedan next to her almost rear-ended the car in front of it because the driver was snapping photos instead of paying attention to the road. The paparazzo slammed on his brakes, the prolonged screech of the tires assaulting her ears. Through it all, the driver continued to hang his camera out the window taking photos, unconcerned that he’d nearly caused an accident.
“That’s it.” Alex gripped the steering wheel so hard she was surprised the wheel didn’t snap off. He checked the rearview mirror and jerked the wheel to the right, squeezing in front of the photographer. She pitched forward and sent a silent thanks for her seat belt when it yanked her back against the seat.
Alex’s sudden right turn down a side street surprised their chasers. They lost the two cars on either side of them, but the one behind them stayed on their tail. The driver tapped the SUV’s bumper, forcing Alex to speed up and swerve around the car in front of him.
“You okay?” he asked. His face and voice radiated calm. Only the skin stretched tight across his knuckles gave away his anger.
“Yeah,” she managed to get out, although she could barely hear herself over her pulse pounding in her ears.
“Hold on.” Alex yanked the steering wheel to the left, maneuvering in between two cars and then continuing to the next lane, thankfully unoccupied. He pressed his foot on the gas and gunned for the light ahead, which had turned yellow.
Fliss squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, please, God.”
When she dared to open her eyes, they were on the other side of the light, still in one piece. They hadn’t hit anyone or been hit. She looked behind her. The photographer was stuck at the red light. Thank God. She slammed a hand over her racing heart. Her shoulders collapsing in relief, she turned toward Alex.
Although they’d lost their entourage, he didn’t seem to notice. Fury rolled off him in waves. His breaths came fast and furious. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the windshield shattered under the heat of his glare. He zoomed down the mostly empty street, his foot pressed firmly on the gas. Not as fast as before but definitely above the speed limit. She had no idea where he was going. She didn’t think he did, either.
She’d never seen him this upset. Not even when they argued. Still, she had to reach him before he got in an accident. “Alex?”
He didn’t respond. Or slow down.
“Alex,” she said more forcefully.
He stared straight ahead, his mouth drawn in a tight, straight line, a deep vee bisecting his forehead. Her heartbeat, which had started to return to its normal rate, quickened again.
“Alex!”
Finally, he glanced her way. “What?” A scowl accompanied the question.
“You’ve got to slow down.”
The worry and fear in her voice must have registered because he blinked like he was coming out of a trance. His eyes shot to the speedometer. “Damn.”
The car slowed down, and he steered it to the curb. He turned
No, they weren’t. Damn vultures. Fear pulsing through her veins, Fliss clutched her seat belt with a trembling hand and endeavored to ignore the guy next to her, who had also crept in too close. The situation might be exciting if they were on a set shooting one of Alex’s action movies, but they weren’t. They were on a city street with a posted speed limit of twenty-five. She didn’t look at the speedometer. No need. They were well above the limit. She dug into her purse with her free hand and pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call the police.”
“We don’t have time to wait until the cops get here. They’re getting more reckless.”
With wide eyes, she took in the scene. Chaos reigned. They were surrounded on three sides by cars crowding in on them. Other drivers honked their horns and swarmed out of the way.
“Ah!” Fliss slapped a hand across her mouth when the sedan next to her almost rear-ended the car in front of it because the driver was snapping photos instead of paying attention to the road. The paparazzo slammed on his brakes, the prolonged screech of the tires assaulting her ears. Through it all, the driver continued to hang his camera out the window taking photos, unconcerned that he’d nearly caused an accident.
“That’s it.” Alex gripped the steering wheel so hard she was surprised the wheel didn’t snap off. He checked the rearview mirror and jerked the wheel to the right, squeezing in front of the photographer. She pitched forward and sent a silent thanks for her seat belt when it yanked her back against the seat.
Alex’s sudden right turn down a side street surprised their chasers. They lost the two cars on either side of them, but the one behind them stayed on their tail. The driver tapped the SUV’s bumper, forcing Alex to speed up and swerve around the car in front of him.
“You okay?” he asked. His face and voice radiated calm. Only the skin stretched tight across his knuckles gave away his anger.
“Yeah,” she managed to get out, although she could barely hear herself over her pulse pounding in her ears.
“Hold on.” Alex yanked the steering wheel to the left, maneuvering in between two cars and then continuing to the next lane, thankfully unoccupied. He pressed his foot on the gas and gunned for the light ahead, which had turned yellow.
Fliss squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, please, God.”
When she dared to open her eyes, they were on the other side of the light, still in one piece. They hadn’t hit anyone or been hit. She looked behind her. The photographer was stuck at the red light. Thank God. She slammed a hand over her racing heart. Her shoulders collapsing in relief, she turned toward Alex.
Although they’d lost their entourage, he didn’t seem to notice. Fury rolled off him in waves. His breaths came fast and furious. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the windshield shattered under the heat of his glare. He zoomed down the mostly empty street, his foot pressed firmly on the gas. Not as fast as before but definitely above the speed limit. She had no idea where he was going. She didn’t think he did, either.
She’d never seen him this upset. Not even when they argued. Still, she had to reach him before he got in an accident. “Alex?”
He didn’t respond. Or slow down.
“Alex,” she said more forcefully.
He stared straight ahead, his mouth drawn in a tight, straight line, a deep vee bisecting his forehead. Her heartbeat, which had started to return to its normal rate, quickened again.
“Alex!”
Finally, he glanced her way. “What?” A scowl accompanied the question.
“You’ve got to slow down.”
The worry and fear in her voice must have registered because he blinked like he was coming out of a trance. His eyes shot to the speedometer. “Damn.”
The car slowed down, and he steered it to the curb. He turned
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