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“Yeah. Just take care of Mama. Thank you! I owe you!” I give him a peck on the cheek. He’s taking a sick day today, just for me.
“I know the drill,” he says.
I hit the road to LA, my head full of Rob and his injuries.
How dare you, Aidan!
So he’s definitely found me. He can do anything he wants to me. But to my man?
Coward!
Approaching Beverly Hills, I realize the blue sedan lurking behind me has been tailing me for miles. The first time I saw it was just after the turn to Calabasas. The driver might have even been following me since Santa Maria.
“Let’s see what you’re up to,” I grumble under my breath.
I turn onto a side street, pretending I’m pulling over. The sedan arrives on the street a few seconds after I stop. It pulls over too, about twenty yards behind me.
I linger, watching it from my rearview mirror. I can’t quite make out who the driver is, but I don’t think it’s Aidan.
About ten minutes later, I nudge my car out of the parking spot. My car is moving slower than the people strolling beside me on the sidewalk, and after a few feet I notice the blue sedan pulling into the street.
“Take this!”
Before it’s fully out of its parking space, I reverse, fast. I stop alongside it, only inches apart, blocking the driver’s side door.
Not giving the guy a chance to make sense of what just happened, I jump out of my car. The driver is unmistakably the man who sent me the bloody doll head, and most likely rigged Rob’s car.
The man in the hoodie slinks into the passenger seat and flees from the other side. I’ve anticipated this, and I’m not about to be outdone. It’s time to put my legs to good use again.
Not so fast, asshole!
The guy runs like a corgi. With my full cheetah pace, I’m gaining on him. A few feet away from my prey, I launch at his hoodie to put a stop to his run.
My fingertips are on the back of the asshole’s hood, but out of the blue, a gloved hand snatches my forearm, pushing me aside. I fall on my elbow, and then I see a Harley swish past to pick up the guy I’m pursuing.
“Fuck!”
I stare at the rider of the Harley. His hand had contracted on my forearm like he wanted me. That’s someone who could be Aidan Rolland. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Totally defeated, I jog back to my car, only to be forced to say goodbye to it as a tow truck drags it away. Hands on knees, my intention to call a taxi goes out the window. I’ve left my bag in the car. I don’t even have a penny to use a payphone.
I make my way to the nearest shopping center, hoping I can hail a cab from there. How embarrassing would it be to ask Rob to pay for it when I get to his house?
“Miss Cannizzaro!” a man in a Mercedes calls from the street.
“Joe!”
“Are you okay?”
“I need to get to Rob.”
“Hop in.” Joe throws perplexed glances at me, noticing me rubbing my elbow. “Are you hurt?”
I’m wearing my own jacket this time, and thank goodness it’s protected me. I’m sure what I’m feeling is just a small graze on my arm.
“I’m okay, but my car got towed away. My bag and my phone are in it. But that can wait. I just need to get to Rob.”
“I’ll get you there. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
