Page 84 of Bae

I’d bet a million dollars it was him behind me.

I felt a slight tap on my bumper, causing my car to jerk. I screamed and gripped the wheel, trying to keep on track.

The car beside me swerved closer, and I sucked in a breath. Panic made me weak; my breath came in gasps as I struggled to decide what to do. I could pull over, but would they pull over, too?

Was it safer to keep moving so they couldn’t at least get to me? Or was it safer to pull over and take my chances?

I hit a button on the dash and yelled, “Call local police!”

The sound of my Bluetooth registering and the call going through nearly made me weep. I focused on the road in front of me as I drove, hitting the gas a little heavier than I probably should, but fear and adrenaline gave me an overwhelming desire for flight.

The operator on the other end answered, and I just started talking, not even bothering to listen to her introduction. “My name is Rimmel Anderson. I’m on Fleet Street, heading away from Dr. Crawford’s office. I’m being chased by two men who I believe are paparazzi. They’re in two separate cars.” Something hit my back end again. I screamed. “They’re trying to run me off the road!”

“I’m dispatching a unit now, Mrs. Anderson. Is there anywhere you can pull over until help arrives?”

“I’m scared to pull over! What if they attack me?”

“Can you give me a description of the vehicles?”

I called out as many details as I could as my car drove down the street and I white-knuckled the wheel. It wasn’t much. I was almost to the point of not being able to think. Just then, the man behind me laid on his horn, the disruptive sound blaring through the night.

I heard the acceleration of his car behind me and braced for impact, but none came. When I glanced in the mirror, I couldn’t see his headlights anymore because he was so close.

“Please hurry,” I whispered.

“We’re on our way. Can you pull over?”

I glanced up ahead. There was a gas station with lots of overhead lighting a couple blocks away. “There’s a GoGas station up on my right. I’ll pull in there.”

“I’ll direct the officers.”

Tears ran down my cheeks. I hadn’t even felt them. My stomach and body was so tense it cramped, and the feeling reminded me of the day I lost Evie.

Just thinking about her, just reliving even a fraction of something from that day broke something inside me. A cry ripped from my lips, and I leaned over the steering wheel.

The car beside me swerved in again, and I tried to avoid him. My Range Rover fishtailed a bit, and I fought for control. The lights of the gas station drew closer, offering me some kind of safety. I focused on them, but all I saw was flashes of the press and all I heard was the screeching of tires.

The car at my side slammed over again, this time catching me off guard. I cried out and jerked the wheel, trying with everything I had to avoid getting sideswiped. The car behind me clipped my bumper. I heard it rather than felt it.

The next thing I knew, the Rover was out of my control, skidding off the road and toward the gas station I’d been so desperate to reach.

The huge overhead lights that had once seemed like a beacon and promise of safety, turned out to be just the opposite.

The Range Rover collided head on with one of the cement lamp poles. The ear-splitting sound of crunching metal and the airbag exploding at my face was all I knew.

Burning pain burst across my entire body as dust and debris clogged my airways.

Everything went dark.

Romeo

“Mr. Anderson?” the voice on the other end of the phone said.

“This is Roman Anderson,” I said, a feeling of dread worming its way through my guts.

“This is Paul Ryken. I’m a first responder in Maryland. I’m calling to let you know I’m here with your wife,”

“What!” I yelled. My fingers went numb. I fumbled to hold the phone. Black spots swam before my vision as I struggled to hear everything.

---