Page 4 of Knot So Fast
Ironic.
"I can't—" The words finally break free, raw and broken. "I can't stop. If I stop, I'll?—"
"You'll what, baby? Tell me."
"I'll fall apart." The admission tears from my throat like it's taking pieces of me with it. "And I can't. I can't fall apart again. Not over him. Not over any of you."
Before he can answer, I notice them in my rearview mirror—four cars that definitely weren't there a moment ago, moving in perfect formation like they're hunting something. Like they're huntingme. I press the gas harder, watching the speedometer climb again, but they keep pace effortlessly.
"Lachlan," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the engine noise. "Something's wrong."
"What do you mean? Talk to me, Auren."
Four cars race past me in formation, making me suddenly aware that I'm going over 140 mph and these aren't just random drivers out for a midnight joyride.These are professionals.The way they move, the way they coordinate—this is planned.
"What the..." I begin, but then the front car suddenly brakes hard, forcing me to slam my own brakes.
The Ferrari's anti-lock system kicks in, but I'm going too fast, the road is too narrow, and I'm boxed in on all sides.
They hit me from the left first—just a nudge, but at this speed it's enough to send me into a skid. I fight for control, my hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, years of racing experience kicking in as I try to correct the slide.
"Auren! What's happening?" Lachlan's voice is sharp now, no longer calm, and I can hear other voices in the background—the rest of his pack.
The car on my right clips my rear bumper, sending me into a spin.
The world becomes a kaleidoscope of headlights and guardrails and the dark expanse of ocean beyond the coastal road.
I try to regain control, hearing the outcry of my name through the phone's speaker as I curse and brace for what's coming.
But then I see it—the gap in the guardrail ahead, growing larger as I slide toward it.
The drop beyond it that disappears into darkness.
They pull back, their job done, leaving me to hurtle toward the edge alone.
"No, no, no—" I wrench the wheel hard, feeling the tires lose their grip on the asphalt.
The Ferrari's traction control screams warnings at me, but physics doesn't care about advanced safety systems.
I go through the barrier.
Off a cliff.
The sensation of falling is nothing like I expected.
There's a moment—just one—where everything goes quiet. Where the engine noise fades and the wind stops howling and even my heartbeat seems to pause.
A moment of perfect, terrible silence as gravity takes hold and pulls me down toward the dark water below.
I take one last gasp of air, realizing I'm plummeting into the Mediterranean, and there's no way out.
No last-second save.
No miracle.
Just me and this beautiful, deadly machine falling together into the abyss.
My name is being called over and over through the phone's speaker, and there are other voices in the background—the others—his entire pack screaming my name like they can somehow will me back to safety.
