Page 81 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

“Think, Rachel, think!” I tell myself, looking for an escape route. Ahead, I spot a parking garage and get an idea. I slam the car into the entrance, steering into the winding structure, praying I could lose him.

I drive into the garage, the echo of my engine off the concrete walls growing louder and louder. I spin right, left, right, my heartbeat picking up as I wait to hear the sound of Collins’s car. I’ve got to think of somewhere he won’t think to find me.

I finally see an empty spot at the far end of the garage. I shut off the engine and listen as I pull in quickly, holding my breath. I hear tires screeching to a halt in the garage and see Collins’s headlights flash as he enters, searching for me.

I crouch down in my seat, my heart racing as he drives by. I feel the tension in my body, waiting for what feels like forever for him to pass.

I watch him speed out of the garage, frustration etched across his face as he drives away. A shaky breath leaves my lips, and relief floods me.

I get out of the parking garage, looking around to make sure nobody is behind me before heading to my apartment. I still have adrenaline pumping through my veins, but I’m not going to let fear do the talking for me. It’s time for me to take control, not just for me but for Vaughn.

I lock my doors and think about what I just saw in the locker room. I need to warn Vaughn about Collins; this isn’t over. I can feel determination starting to build. Collins’s threats won’t tear us apart, and I won’t let them. We are stronger together, and I am willing to fight for that.

Then, a car slows in front of my doorstep, cutting short my relief. I look out and realize it’s Collins. He must have known I was going home and tracked me here.

“Rachel!” he shouts, pounding on the window. “You can’t just run away from this.”

I quickly dial Vaughn’s number and hold my breath as the phone rings, praying he picks up.

“Come on, Vaughn,” I whisper, glancing up to see Collins pacing outside, his expression a mix of anger and frustration.

Finally, Vaughn answers. “Rachel, what’s going on?”

“Vaughn!” I say, trying not to let my fear take over. “You need to listen to me. I just saw Collins planting drugs in your locker!”

“What?” His voice is sharp, alarmed. “Are you sure?”

“Where are you? I’ll come to you,” he says, and I can hear the worry in his voice.

“Vaughn, he’s right outside my apartment!” I look nervously at the window. “I don’t know what he’ll do if he catches me.” Collins is pacing like a predator waiting for his prey.

“Just stay hidden and lock the doors,” Vaughn instructs, his voice calm but firm. “I’ll get there as quick as I can.”

I hung up the phone, my heart pounding, staring at Collins, who is looking around, his frustration turning to suspicion. I locked the doors earlier, and I am hiding behind a couch, where I can feel the weight of my fear pressing down on me.

“Rachel!” he calls again, his voice rising. “You can’t keep hiding. This is serious!”

“Stay away from me, Collins!” I shout back, my voice trembling with anger and fear.

I hide as he steps closer to the window, and I can see the menace in his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re up against, just waltzing in and ruining everything,” he growls.

“I’m protecting Vaughn!” I retort, my heart pounding. “You’re the one trying to sabotage him. You won’t get away with it!”

“Smart move, Rachel,” he sneers. “If you believe you can out me, you’re wrong.”

As he leans closer to the window, his expression darkens, and I feel a chill run down my spine. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

Chapter thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Vaughn

I’m too worried to focus on the road as I drive toward Rachel’s apartment. The traffic is worse than I thought, and with each red light comes an eternity of my mind spinning with thoughts of her safety. Maybe Collins has done something to her already. I can’t get Rachel’s face from our last confrontation out of my mind—the look of complete terror. And though I want more than anything to protect her, I know it won’t matter.

“Come on, come on,” I mutter as I inch forward in the gridlock. I can see my knuckles whitening around the steering wheel and feel my heart pounding in my chest. I have to get to her, and I have to do it quickly.

I spot a commotion up ahead just when I think I can’t take it anymore. There’s a group of people on the side of the road, theirvoices raised in concern. I slow down and pull over. My heart races at the thought that maybe something is wrong.

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