Page 59 of Canvas of Lies
“Not once did you let on that any of this crap is worth more than a couple bucks. Very smooth, very collected. It’s a hell of a turn-on, you know.”
She laughed, a bright, musical sound that warmed me to my toes. “Well, I’m glad I’m not boring you, Nicolas.”
“I don’t think you could ever bore me, Kitten, even if you tried. And you know, I like the way it sounds when you say it.”
She smirked at me as we headed down the street to the next sale. “What, your name? You mean like an American instead of the French way, like your family? I’ll admit I found that pretty sexy.”
My lips curved. “Oh, you can speak French to me any time,mon cœur.We already established just how hot I find that.”
Kat devoted our scouting excursions to keeping my mind off of the buzz generated by the photos using any means possible. She teased, cajoled, flirted—and for the most part, she was successful. I appreciated it, even during the moments when I couldn’t quite stop myself from looking at the alerts.
Aidan Willoughby had still not made any public statements, nor had he tried to contact me or Kat directly, but our anxiety grew throughout the weekend, knowing the other shoe was bound to drop.
On Sunday, Kat dragged me out to an antique mall almost an hour away, but even her own focus on the expedition was scattered. We still left with a canvas tote bag full of items, half of which I could barely recall seeing her pick out and which she confessed were probably worthless.
The most memorable purchase of the afternoon was a velvet painting of Elvis Presley wearing a sequined jacket, which she’d only agreed to buy because it had us both in stitches when we came across it.
I turned the radio to something soothing for the drive home and kept her laughing with some fond memories of our childhood adventures. Kat was still wiping tears from the corners of her eyes when she caught me frowning at the rearview mirror. All trace of laughter evaporated as she turned in her seat and spotted a dark SUV with tinted windows riding our tail.
“Does he want to pass us? Oh god, he’s close,” she whispered.
We were on a narrow country road in the middle of nowhere, miles still from Spruce Hill. My heart leapt into my throat as the driver of the SUV closed the already dangerously short distance between the cars.
Though I briefly considered trying to pull off to let the car pass, a yawning pit of dread opened up inside my gut. Asshole drivers were nothing I hadn’t dealt with before, but being tailed by one in a shiny new vehicle with dark-tinted windows felt altogether different.
Especially surrounded by endless stretches of farmland, forest, and little else.
At my side, Kat fumbled for a minute trying to unlock her phone, then she turned around in her seat.
“Jesus, be careful. Don’t take off your seatbelt under any circumstances,” I ordered.
She raised the phone, snapped a photo of the SUV’s license plate since we could barely see the driver through the windshield, then turned back around. I glanced over and saw her dialing 911, but when the other vehicle struck our bumper, she cried out and dropped the phone. I struggled to control the car as it lurched drunkenly forward.
“Hang on,” I said grimly, pressing my foot down on the gas pedal.
My thoughts raced faster than the vehicle, which was hovering just above seventy at the moment. If we pulled over—or if we were forced off the road—there was no telling who or what we’d be facing if our tail followed us instead of speeding past. In my mind, images flashed in quick succession: volleys of gunfire, bullets riddling Kat’s beautiful body, blood coursing down her skin.
“He’s going to hit us again,” Kat said, a mixture of horror and panic in her voice. “Nico, he’s revving up to hit us again!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kat
Dimly,Iheardtheemergency operator speaking from the floorboards, but I was too paralyzed by fear to even try to reach the phone. Nico pressed his foot hard on the gas, grasping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white as he tried to keep the car on the pavement.
“Kitten, listen to me. There’s a stretch of trees coming up on the right. We’re going to pull off and as soon as the car stops, you’re going to run like hell into the woods, do you hear me?”
“What about you?” I asked. My pulse roared in my ears, but his words sliced into my panic like a blade. “Nico, what about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you, I swear I will be. We don’t know what kind of weapons might be inside that car or how many people are in there, so I need you to take off like a bat out of hell.Promise me. Don’t stop for any reason until you get somewhere safe. I won’t be able to do a damn thing if I don’t know you’re safe, Kat.”
I opened my mouth to agree just as we were struck again, harder this time. The impact caused me to bite the inside of my lip hard enough to taste blood.
“Nico!” I gasped, but it was too late.
The black SUV rammed into the left side of our bumper a third time, sending us into a gut-wrenching spin. The other vehicle blew past us, speeding away as Nico’s little sedan took a nosedive into the ditch along side of the road. In the span of an instant, I went from listening to his muttered curses to hearing nothing more than a high pitched whistle as steam wafted from the engine. The airbags erupted into a blinding white cloud in front of us.
My own hoarse whisper sounded miles away when I said, “Nico?”
