Page 50 of Merciless Attraction

He answers right away. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Natalie?” I ask him.

“Buying another phone. Something about her parents tracking her old one,” he replies. “What’s wrong, Gemma?”

“I got a package with her old address on it from New York. From her music studio. Did she say what her parents wanted?” I ask him, wondering if that has something to do with the package on the table.

“They want to fly her to London for safety after she told them about the security system being installed at your house. When she declined, they said they’d send some guy named Roger to pick her up from Henderson.”

“What does that mean? Who is Henderson?” I ask him.

“Henderson is the executive airport here in Vegas. Private jets and elite only, so she knows they’re actively tracking her. She dropped her phone in a Fed Ex box and is getting a new line activated right now. Fuck, she’s cursing someone out inside. Let me go, Gem. I’ll have her call you as soon as we get out of here.”

He ends the call, and I stare at the package. I don’t want it to be some tracker thing inside for her parents to follow me around. They won’t use me to harass her. I grab the box and know I can do the same thing. I’ll put it somewhere or in something to have it move around. They can chase it, and not me.

When I leave my apartment, there are dozens of people walking up and down the street enjoying the day. I get into my car and head toward an international delivery service. I decide to use one near Potrero Point which isn’t too far from Pacific heights where Antonio’s building is. I can drop this thing and keep going. Curiosity has me ready to open it, but if it’s not from Natalie’s parents, then I’m certain it’s nothing good for me either.

According to the GPS, the delivery place is coming up as my phone rings. I answer the call.

“Gemma!” Antonio sounds frantic.

“What’s wrong?” My heart races.

“Are you driving right now? You need to get out of your car!” he shouts. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m on my way—” Panic cuts my words off and makes my hands tremble. No matter how hard I push down on the brakes, the car isn’t slowing down. “Something’s wrong!”

“Can you get out? How fast are you going?”

“Like thirty, what the hell is going on?” I ask as my car increases speed.

There’s a flurry of lights flickering across my dashboard and the GPS screen glitches. When it comes back on, it’s no longer heading to the delivery depot, but into the water beside it. The GPS is trying to reroute but is stalling. When I reach for the door, it won’t unlock while the car’s engaged at such a high speed and tells me as much in a bright message flashing across the screen.

“Stupid safety protocols. Antonio! I can’t get out! I’m near Potrero Point by 23rdStreet. It’s steering me toward the water. I can’t stop!” I shout into the line as the car speeds toward a metal railing that I hope can end this horrific joyride, but it doesn’t.

The airbags deploy as soon as I slam through the guardrail and punch my head back into the head rest. I’m dizzy and barely coherent when my car hits the water. Thankfully, I’m still conscious. Although, I’m not sure for how long.

The side of my face is throbbing in pain, and not the sexy kind. I can barely see around the airbag but reach behind me with my left hand to remove my headrest. My right side is numb with a throbbing pulse of pain, and I decide to keep that side as still as possible.

I’m leapfrogging between pushing the button and raising it out of the seat until the headrest is free. The pointed ends are sharp enough to break the car windows in situations like this. After struggling for a few seconds, I pull it out and stab the airbag to deflate it.

My windshield has a huge spiderweb crack, but thankfully it is still connected to the car. The sight of murky greenish water from the Bay surrounding my car has my heart racing and my entire body shaking with tears pouring down my cheeks. I can’t stop the convulsions of fear racking my body as I reach for the handle of my door but stop.

“Deep breaths, Gem,” I coach myself into calming down. “Calm down and think for just a second. Take your seatbelt off.”

The sound of my own voice in the car is to distract me from the sound of water crushing metal that’s barely holding together. I’m not completely under yet as daylight streams through my newly fixed rear windshield.

I laugh out loud with a cough that feels like I have mucus in my lungs. “See, Gem. You're okay. You’re going to be fine. You can laugh because this is going to be soooo funny when you’re in the hospital complaining that you just got the car fixed, right?”

Thankfully, I’m able to get the seatbelt off after gingerly moving across my body to release it, but a slight jerk of the car moves me forward and sends a shock of pain ricocheting across my body like a pinball machine. I opt to leave the seatbelt on and that seems to make it stop.

I try to see the best way for me to get out of this. I can hear sirens and the sounds of someone on a loudspeaker. My phone’s ringing, but it’s on the floor in front of the passenger seat. The screen for the GPS is flickering on and off, but I can see its emergency services calling.

After using my right hand to grip the steering wheel and brace myself from moving, I reach across to desperately jam my finger to answer the call, but the touchscreen seems to be broken. I remember the button on the steering wheel, moving the airbag out of the way to press the green phone symbol.

“Gemma Marzano, this is Angel Arc, your vehicle service assistant patching through to emergency services, please standby.” The robotic voice tells me, and I hate it already.

But I’m happy to hear a human voice seconds later. “Is anyone there? Can you talk?”

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