Page 12 of Xavier

A carn horn honks behind me. Looking in my rear-view mirror, my eyes widen as a black SUV with blacked out tint scoots closer to my back bumper.

I’ve seen plenty of television shows, and real life police paperwork to know this isn’t good.

Someone is following me, but the real question is why?

It doesn’t make sense that this would be about Austin. We just broke up last night.

Could this be related to work? I haven’t had to do much in this small town, so it’s highly unlikely that it’s related to work.

Could this be someone from my past? That’s more likely because of the severity of the crimes they committed.

I slow down, waiting to see if they will pass me, but they slow down as well.

I press my foot down on the gas pedal and put some distance between me and the car behind me.

They speed up, closing the gap.

I get in the left lane. They get in the left lane.

Thankfully, it’s the middle of the day and most everyone is at work, so the streets are empty.

The last thing I ever thought would happen today is being involved in a car chase.

Grabbing my phone out of my purse, I call the police station.

The all too familiar, deep, gruff voice of my favorite officer answers. “Scarlett Island police department. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Lieutenant. It’s Brianna. I have a little situation happening.” I push down on the pedal until I am driving ten miles per hour over the speed limit.

“Oh, yeah, I heard about the breakup.”

I cut him off. “Not to be rude, but this isn’t about the breakup. I’m being tailed by someone. They are driving a black Ford Explorer with blacked out tint. License plate number is-”

I look into the rear-view mirror and read off the tag number backwards. “Charles, David, Henry, four, six, eight, two.”

CDH-4682. I repeat the license plate number in my head several times, committing it to memory.

Lieutenant scrambles on the other end of the phone, repeating the tag number before asking, “Where are you located now? I’ll send a couple of cars out to your location.”

“Driving west on Fifth Street.” I glance at the street sign as I drive through an intersection. “I just passed Seabreeze Avenue.”

“Take a right turn on Main Street, then three left turns until you are heading east on Fifth Street. I’ll have some officers meet up with you by the time you pass Seabreeze on the return.”

I do exactly as the Lieutenant says. I turn right on Main Street, watching as the car behind me also turns right.

The roar of his engine drags my attention off the road a second before his bumper hits mine, jerking my car into the next lane.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I swerve out of the wrong lane and keep my car straight. “He just struck me on my passenger side.”

“Fuck.” Lieutenant barks orders to someone a second before I hear a chair scraping across the floor.

I drive for a quarter of a mile before taking three lefts until I am back on Fifth Street.

“Okay, I’m back on Fifth and approaching Seabreeze.”

“Honk twice and gun it through the intersection. The officers will handle it from there.”

Not thinking about how dangerous this is, I press down on the center of my steering wheel and honk my horn twice before pressing all the way down on the gas pedal.

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