Page 232 of Obsession

What really tore at my soul was my mother. Her, once again, and getting the missing pieces of a puzzle that I had fought so long to finish. I never understood why his parents hated her, why he ran away to be with her, why she always talked about dancing like it was a shattered dream, why she changed the subject every time I had questions about her past.

All I had ever known about my mother was that she was a simple girl, with no friends, a sick mother and an older sister.

Everything about her was a lie, and I had no idea who the woman who gave birth to me was.

My rearview mirror was suddenly obscured by a large car.

My heart pounded in my chest as I relived the horror of yesterday.

It wouldn’t happen again, Harris had assured me he’d taken care of it.

The car was right behind me, but it didn’t overtake me, even though it had the chance to.

It wasn’t a gray Range Rover anymore. It wasn’t that stupid car, and I was struggling to keep my paranoia in check so as not to go mad. This time it was a black Lamborghini Urus, huge as a monster behind me, its windows tinted too.

I slowed down to give it another chance to overtake me.

It didn’t.

“Fuck!” I cursed and punched the steering wheel, then stepped on the gas pedal until the car began to smell of burned oil and rubber.

Smoke billowed out of the hood, but I didn’t stop. Under no circumstances would I be caught again.

I fumbled for my phone and realized it was in the jacket I’d left at Amber’s.

I cursed through my teeth and looked in the rearview mirror. It only took a second for it to flash past me like a lightning bolt. It wasn’t that hard, because I couldn’t go over 150 in my dad’s old car.

My heart leaped with hope as the car moved further away and no gun came out of the window.

Maybe it wasn’t…

Suddenly it braked and turned on its side, blocking the whole road.

I screamed a curse and slammed on the brakes, also pulling the parking brake to make sure I didn’t crash into the car. The engine shook, and the pedal slipped, a sign that something had happened to the brakes. I stepped on nothing a few times as my heart climbed in my throat. The wet road wasn’t much help either.

I came to a halt a few feet from the Urus.

My car was filled with smoke. I was panting and didn’t have time to think about anything else before I opened the door and got out.

I started coughing and leaned against the car, my nostrils burning because my dad’s car was smoking like a firecracker about to explode.

The other car wasn’t moving.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” I shouted through the rain.

There was no answer.

The rage still pulsing through my veins gave me the dangerous courage I didn’t need, and I headed for the other car.

I was so sick of the cat-and-mouse game. I had had enough. Little did I care if I ended up with a bullet in my brain, I just wanted to see who was behind those stupid tinted windows.

Before I reached the car, he revved the engine menacingly.

I didn’t stop.

At that moment, he accelerated and suddenly turned, not to run me over, but in the opposite direction. A few seconds later he was gone, and I was standing in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the road, angry and mentally exhausted.

The honking of a passing car brought me back to reality, and I went back to my dad’s car, which was no longer smoking so badly, but it seemed quite dangerous to get in.

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