Page 17 of Broken-Hearted

I get what he’s hinting at. Not that I’d ever admit to it. But I get where he’s going with his less than subtle probing.

After a thoughtful stare, he rises and closes my door before rounding the car to get into the driver’s seat.

I blow out a quiet sigh of relief, and the second Nathan slides into his seat, I ask brightly, “How about I pick out music for the drive?”

Because loud music means less opportunity for prying questions about me, the alpha hunting me, and whether I’m an omega.

Nathan raises his eyebrow as he starts the engine, a sign he suspects I’m trying to change the subject. But he doesn’t ask me any probing questions, so that’s something.

We’ve been driving for a couple of miles, and I’ve been focusing on finding a decent song, bouncing from one crap radio station to another, that I miss Nathan’s frequent glances in the rearview mirror.

“What is it?” I ask, pausing my search for the elusive best road music.

He frowns in the rearview mirror. “A green Ford was a couple of cars behind us an hour ago.”

“And?”

“It’s still a couple of cars behind us.”

I get a bad feeling and turn off the radio. “So?”

He puts his foot down. Gravity gently tugs me back into my seat as Nathan pulls off the highway and changes lanes. We blow through a small town so fast I barely glimpse it.

When we’re back on the highway, I watch Nathan closely as he slows the car down and his eyes drift from the road to the rearview mirror.

“Nathan?” I prompt when he says nothing.

His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “It’s still there.”

Shit.

He doesn’t need to tell me what he’s thinking. I’m thinking it too.

Whoever is in that green Ford is following us, and has been since we left Rosenwood. My eyes linger on the rearview mirror. It’s dropped further back, as if the driver is trying not to look so suspicious, but it’s definitely still there.

There’s no doubt in my mind who it is.

Adrian.

Nathan shoots me a rapid glance. “You seemed to be in a real rush to leave Rosenwood.”

How to talk my way out of this?

“Like I said, I was excited to see Hardin,” I lie.

“And not get away from anyone looking to hurt you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because someone tried to kill me in Dawley, and you just bolted out of Rosenwood with a lie so flimsy even the motelowner saw through it.” I wince as he darts a rapid glance at me. “Now someone is following us. I’d assume all of that was coincidental, but I don’t think it is.”

Why couldn’t he have been stupid?

I bitterly regret letting Nathan take the spare bed in my motel room. I should’ve made him sleep outside. Maybe he’d have gotten fed up and returned to Hardin instead of sticking around. Now I’ve put him in more danger, because if Adrian catches up, he won’t hesitate to go through Nathan to get to me.

Nathan slows the car, letting a silver Honda overtake us.

The green Ford has dropped back even further. So Adrian knows we’ve realized he’s following. Is he hoping to convince us that he isn’t? Or is he planning something else?

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