Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
A flash of metal caught my eye around the next bend. A car pulled over on the shoulder, hazard lights blinking weakly against the glare of sunlight. My first instinct was to keep going. Not my problem. Then I recognized the dark blue Taurus. Knight’s sister’s vehicle.
I slowed and moved toward the shoulder behind her car. Ada crouched by the rear wheel, struggling with a car jack that kept slipping on the uneven ground. Before dismounting, I scanned the surroundings again out of habit, finding the road empty. Woods lined the opposite side of the road, thicker than I’d realized from a distance. A ravine ran along this side, shallow enough that her car wasn’t in danger, but steep enough to make changing a tire a bitch.
That’s when I saw it. A figure at the tree line, partially hidden by undergrowth. Something about the silhouette, the way the shoulders hunched forward, sparked recognition. Reminded me of someone from before. Someone who should’ve been long gone.
I kept my eyes on the tree line as I killed the engine and dismounted. Helmets weren’t mandatory in Tennessee, but I wore one anyway. I had no intention of giving anyone a reason to come after me if I could avoid it. I pulled it off, hanging the helmet from the handlebar, keeping the figure in my peripheral vision as I approached Ada.
She looked up at the sound of my boots on gravel, surprise flashing across her face. Not fear. Interesting.
“Jag,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face, leaving a smudge of dirt across her cheek. “What are you doing out here?”
I glanced again at the tree line. The figure hadn’t moved. Watching us.
“Saw you had a flat,” I said, crouching beside her. My eyes flickered between her and the figure across the road. “Jack’s not set right.”
“Yeah, I figured that out after the third time it slipped.” She sat back on her heels, brushing her hands against her jeans. “Never been great at this part. I can handle most basic car maintenance, but I always hated changing tires.” She looked up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun and grinning at me. “Or attempting to, anyway.”
I took the jack from her hands, our fingers brushing momentarily. The brief contact jolted through me like an electrical current. Touch starvation. Another prison souvenir. I focused on the task at hand. “Ground’s uneven.” I dug into the gravel with my hands, creating a flatter surface. “Need something solid under it.”
Ada reached into the car and pulled out a small roadside emergency kit. “Would this help?” She handed me a flat piece of plastic meant for exactly this purpose.
Smart woman. I nodded, positioning the plastic and resetting the jack. The whole time, I kept the tree line in my field of vision. The figure had shifted slightly, moving deeper into shadow.
“You always carry proper emergency gear?” I asked, cranking the jack with more force than necessary.
“My brother insisted. He likes to be prepared for everything.” She laughed softly. “Knight’s overprotective.”
“Knight’s smart,” I corrected, loosening the lug nuts while the tire still had some pressure against the ground. The tire came off with a final twist of the last nut. I set it aside and grabbed the spare from where she’d rolled it. The whole time I tried my best to keep the figure in sight. He’d definitely moved, circling to get a better vantage point.
“You keep looking across the road,” Ada said suddenly. Observant. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I lied automatically. Then thought better of it, shaking my head slightly. “Maybe. Not sure yet.”
Her eyes followed mine to the tree line, narrowing slightly. “Someone there?” I nodded once, aligning the spare and threading the first lug nut. “Someone you know?” she asked, voice low.
“Maybe.” I worked the tire into place with practiced movements. “From before.”
“Before prison?” She didn’t shy away from naming it. Most people danced around the word like it was contagious.
“Yeah.” I probably should have elaborated, but I didn’t want to. I kept remembering her words from a couple weeks ago. That it wasn’t paranoia I was feeling. This? This was different. This wasn’t paranoia or PTSD or whatever she was talking about. I knew because she had been absolutely right about me being paranoid. What I felt now wasn’t in the same league as paranoid. It was much, much worse. We were in danger. I just didn’t know if it was immediate or if someone was forming a plan. Given the fact they’d been ahead of me and I hadn’t been on a planned route, I was going with the assumption this was a chance meeting…
Or maybe someone was watching Ada.
The spare secured, I lowered the jack and packed everything away. When I looked back to the tree line, the figure had disappeared. My muscles tensed involuntarily. Disappearing meant either leaving or repositioning.