Page 30 of The Billionaire's Wife

He dropped my arm and I took off, digging into my bag for my keys as I sprinted. I clicked the fob, praying—ha—that this time would be one of the times it worked, and yanked at the handle.

It opened.

I dove in, slammed the door, and mashed the lock.

Manny’s open palm smacked on the window by my head and I jolted.

“Don’t run. It’ll be easier on you if you don’t run.”

“Yeah, sure.” I muttered as my shaking hands took three tries to get the key into the ignition. I really, really wished I could have found a used car with a push-button start. Next time.

A bubble of semi-hysterical laughter tore free. Next time?

I got the engine started, shifted into Drive, and started to ease from the space. I didn’t want to drive over Manny’s foot, but if he didn’t move, I wasn’t going to be responsible for the damage.

“Hey!” He pounded on the window. “Stop! Now!”

I cleared the back bumper of the car in front of me and stepped on the gas. There was a thunk and I caught a glimpse of Manny hopping and rubbing his leg before he took a few steps after my car.

I blew through a stop sign, waving at the cars I cut off as they blared their horns.

It took longer than I wanted to get to the Beltway entrance. Once there, I merged into traffic. I could circle DC until I figured out my next step.

What I wanted to do was pull over and let the adrenaline work its way out of my system. But there’d be time for that later. Hopefully.

I slammed my brakes as a car from the right lane swerved in front of me.

Maybe driving on the Beltway wasn’t going to decrease my adrenaline any.

I blew out a breath. I needed to think. I had to leave the area. The problem was, I had no idea where to go. If Manny had found me here—and how that had come about was something I needed to unravel—was anyplace safe?

I was going to need a new car now, too. Manny knew this one. I chewed my lip. That was probably the first step. Ugh. I could use a cell phone right about now. Of course, that was the same as lighting a big sign over my head for the cartel.

I checked my mirrors, changed into the right lane, and then moved into the exit lane. I’d find a convenience store and see if someone there could direct me to the right place to find car dealerships. I didn’t have time to dig through the online listings, which meant I was going to end up paying more than I really ought to. And I was going to have to tap an account.

None of this was ideal.

Why hadn’t I left last week when I could’ve gotten away easily?

I bounced my head against the headrest as I came to a stop at the traffic light at the end of the off ramp. I spotted a 7-Eleven to the left and flicked my signal.

A car pulled up behind me before the light changed. They flashed their headlights. I frowned and checked, but it was still red.

Flash. Beep. Beep. Flash.

“Look buddy, if you’re in a hurry and want to run the red, feel free to go around,” I muttered and tried to ignore whatever problem the dude behind me had.

Finally, the light changed and I hurried to turn.

Did the guy go around me? Of course not.

Scowling, I slid into the turn lane at the next light so I could get to the 7-Eleven. Of course the impatient guy was behind me. I closed my eyes and started counting.

The tap on my window startled me. I whipped my head around, eyes wide.

“Tristan?” I hit the button to lower the window. “What are you…did you follow me?”

“Of course I followed you. Go to the 7-Eleven and park.” He pointed, as if I was too stupid to see the enormous sign in their ubiquitous color scheme. Then he stomped off before I could retort.

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