Page 2 of Misunderstood Hacker

I continued into the kitchen and pulled out a multilayered Reese’s peanut butter cake. Between each layer was a row of Reese’s peanut butter cups. The frosting was chocolate and peanut butter and had Reese’s crumbled on top. When I opened the freezer to pull out the ice cream, I couldn’t find it. I looked through all the shelves, but it wasn’t there.

Patty and Bridget were still in the living room playing with Alonzo when I walked back in. “Hey, guys. I’m going to run to the store quick to pick up ice cream. Do you need anything else?”

Patty shook her head. “Make sure you take one of the guys with you.”

I ignored Patty’s request. We’d all had bodyguards since Patty’s kidnapping. My ex was in the grave, along with Patty’s crazy friend. The tabloids still hadn’t made a big deal over my identity. There was no reason to ask one of the men to go along. I was running to the store by myself, dammit. It was only a few miles away.

I grabbed my phone and purse and headed down the elevator. My black Lexus SUV was waiting in the front spot next to Patty’s Range Rover. I jumped in the SUV and took the first right to exit out of the garage, waving at the guard on the way out.

The streets were quiet for a Sunday afternoon. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d driven myself somewhere without a bodyguard. Enjoying my freedom, I chose to take the scenic route. In the marshy grass, I spotted a mamma alligator basking in the sun next to her baby.

Needing a few more minutes to myself, I turned down a road that led to a nature preserve.

I noticed a black Escalade in my rearview mirror. The windows looked tinted. The driver wore a hat pulled down low, covering their face. The Escalade was going faster than it should be on the back roads and was getting closer and closer. I sped up. Clicking the hands-free button on my steering wheel, I called the first person who popped into my head.

“Where are you, Jessica?” Brock answered. “You aren’t supposed to leave without so—”

“Shut up! I need help.”

The vehicle was getting closer. I sped up, and the Escalade followed by increasing its speed. It was riding my bumper.

“What’s going on?” I could hear the panic in Brock’s voice.

I looked in the review mirror and saw the Escalade right on my tail. I pushed the gas down. Glancing at the speedometer, I noticed my speed was close to seventy on a forty-mile-an-hour road. Where were the police when you needed them? Law enforcement issued close to one hundred twenty thousand tickets a day. I would gladly take one if they could get the maniac off my butt.

The vehicle behind me smacked my bumper, causing my Lexus to lurch forward. I put my foot down on the gas, hoping I could outrun the Escalade.

“Someone is trying to run me off the road.”

“Slow down and see if they’ll pass you. It’s probably someone with road rage.”

“They hit my fucking bumper. Did you know that, in a seven-year study, there were over two hundred murders associated directly with road rage? Let’s hope it’s not road rage and that they leave me alone.”

“This is not the time for a fact check. Where are you?” Brock yelled at Neal to pull up the traffic cameras. “Do you see any turns ahead of you?”

Turning my attention back to the road, I looked for a turnoff. “Yes, in about a hundred feet.”

“Take it. Decrease your speed as much as possible, and take the corner wide,” Brock demanded.

The turn was fast approaching. I slowed down. The Escalade behind me was catching up. I braced myself and took the corner faster than I had ever done before. The wheels on the right side left the road, and I heard a screeching sound from the tires on the left. I made it around the corner, and my Lexus dropped back to four wheels.

“I made it!” I shouted, not sure if I was telling Brock or myself.

On the other end of the phone, I heard a sigh of relief. “Did they follow you?”

I peered into the review mirror. The Escalade had turned and was catching up again.

“Yes.”

“Neal hacked into the cameras. I need you to tell me where you are.”

“I took the scenic r—”

The Escalade hit my right rear fender, causing my Lexus to swerve to the left. My front tire got caught on the uneven pavement on the shoulder of the road, causing my vehicle to flip.

I couldn’t hear Brock anymore over the deafening sound of crunching metal. Glass flew into the car, and I could feel the shards hitting my skin. In the first roll, I knocked my head on the roof. In the second, I felt my right arm snap. The pain was intense. By the third time the car flipped, I knew I was going to die.

“Brock, please find me,” I whispered before the lights went dark.

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