Page 41 of Rough Love

Huffing out a slightly frenzied laugh at my ridiculous thought, I lean forward, grasping my steering wheel as I continue my pursuit. Honestly, this is a long shot, but I have nothing to lose. I’m aware this half-cocked plan is completely idiotic and reckless, yet I find that I have no fucks to give.

I follow the large SUV, keeping at least five vehicles between us at all times as I try to figure out my next move. Do I keep following them? Obviously, I’m committed at this point, but what happens when they arrive at their destination? Do I keep sneaking around, hiding in the shadows while I figure out Eli’s secrets, or do I just jump out and scream,got ya?

I pull my lower lip between my teeth, nibbling on it as my nerves grow into something darker. Anxiety washes away only to be replaced with a large shot of adrenaline as I continue to pursue them. The black car, which I have now identified as an Escalade, weaves through the gridlock with expert precision, going much faster than the busy city streets allow.

I send a silent thanks to my sisters for convincing me to buy such a tiny, fast car as I zig-zag between traffic, never losing sight of them. The more we drive, the more confident I feel in my assumption that this is Eli. The driver, whoever they are, must be incredibly experienced and confident in their skills. I have trouble keeping up with them and more than once, fall into a bout of panic at almost losing them.

I lose track of time, consumed by the thoughts racing through my head. We’re almost to TriBeCa when I finally take note of where we are. Massive high-rises and glass condos surround us, each building seeming larger than the last. The area screams wealth and power and even from my car, I find myself slightly intimidated. Dragging my eyes from a particularly tall glass tower, I glance forward seconds before colliding with someone’s bumper at a red light.

“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my hand on the steering wheel as I get separated from the SUV. My heart rate picks up as I visually track them, watching as they get further and further away. When I lose sight of them completely, the gnawing ache in my belly returns with a vengeance.

As soon as the light changes colors, I take off like a bat out of hell, dodging and weaving between traffic without a second thought. I don’t know what or why I feel the way that I do, but the need to get to Eli, to have eyes on him, overpowers everything else.

Heading in the direction I last spotted them, I pick up my speed, shouting a loud thanks to whoever’s listening when I notice there aren’t many cars around in this area. The road ahead of me clears, granting me the ability to spot the black Escalade less than a quarter of a mile before me. I barely contain my screech of excitement as I charge forward, determined not to lose them again, even if it means I’m discovered.

With less than twenty feet between us, I smile, finally allowing relief to trickle through my adrenaline and nerves. I’m debating what I should say to Eli and possibly the other two men when suddenly, I see it.

A nondescript, silver truck catches my eye as it barrels past me on the otherwise mostly vacant four-lane road. I fight the urge to slam on my horn and shout obscenities at the driver, but I resist, knowing it would just give away my location to Eli too soon. The truck passes me, gaining speed rapidly as they head directly toward the Escalade. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, already knowing what’s about to happen but being unable to do a damn thing to stop it.

I scream into the silence of my car as I watch the scene unfold with abject horror. The large pickup swerves from one lane to the next until they are driving parallel with Eli before jerking to the left and colliding with the other car in an attempt to force them off of the road. The sound of grinding metal fills the air for a few heart-wrenching seconds before the cars separate once more. The truck repeats the move a few times but fails to do anything besides damage the vehicle.

The SUV picks up speed in an attempt to outmaneuver the other driver. I speed up, keeping as close as I safely can, refusing to let Eli out of my sights as thoughts of the worst-case scenario flit through my head. If I had any doubt before that Eli is inside that SUV, it’s completely gone now. This entire thing screams Mafia drama.

The two large vehicles battle for the lead, trying to gain some sort of advantage but their surroundings prevent it. Without warning, the driver of the truck jerks to the right, putting distance between them before abruptly veering left at full speed, colliding with the SUV and sending them careening into a telephone pole. From my short distance away, I can hear the deafening crunch and clash of metal on metal.

My heart lurches along with my stomach and the overwhelming need to vomit has me gasping and swallowing as I try to control my panic. The pickup reverses, leaving the smashed-up SUV and the people inside to fend for themselves, before turning back the way they came. Acting on instinct, I open the camera app on my phone and take as many photos of the truck as possible before they disappear down the road. The driver and I lock eyes as they pass me on the thankfully empty street, but I’m too freaked out to pay attention to him. I have no idea if I successfully caught any images, but hopefully, I got a good one of his face or truck.

I quickly close the distance between the SUV and myself and skid to a stop right next to them. The vehicle hasn’t moved, nor has anyone from inside emerged. The intense emotions within me war for dominance and I force myself to breathe through them, pushing them all deep down so that I can focus on what’s actually happening in front of me. They need me. Whoever they are, Eli or not, they need help.

My door flies open before I’ve even registered that I’m moving. I run toward the driver, trying to stay calm despite my terror when I take in the full extent of the damage. The entire front end is smashed to hell from where it collided with the telephone pole. Smoke is rapidly pouring out from beneath the hood, and I have no doubt that we need to move, and we need to move fast.

The windows are deeply tinted and though I’m scared as hell of who and what is behind door number one, I refuse to cower. I can hear shouts in the distance, and it offers me a small piece of reassurance, knowing that others are coming to help, and I won’t be alone for long. My hand reaches out, shaky and unsteady, as I grasp the door handle and wrench it open. I’m shocked as hell when I find it unlocked but my shock is quickly replaced by nausea as I take in the state of the driver.

His head rests on the steering wheel, cocked to the side and covered in blood. Too much blood. His pale blue eyes are open as he stares at me. He doesn’t speak but the shallow movement from his chest and his rapid blinking let me know that he’s alive. For now, at least. Shaking myself from my shocked state, I step forward, fully intending to help him but a loud grunt from the man stops me in my tracks.

“No,” he rasps, his voice thick and pained. “Not me. Help him.” His words are disjointed and choppy from his labored breathing. He doesn’t move but his eyes dart to the back seat and my heart stops, skipping a beat, and then two, before restarting and making up for a lost time. It slams against my ribcage painfully as I remember Eli.

I want to fight with the man, help him, save him, but…

I nod and dash to the back door before practically ripping it off its hinges. Red hair and colorful tattoos fill my line of sight and my knees buckle. “Eli!” I scream as I throw myself into the backseat. He’s slumped over, half of his body on the seat, the other half on the floor. His arm hangs limply, and I gasp when I see the gun next to it, abandoned in the collision.

As gently as I possibly can, I push Eli, rolling him onto his back so that he’s lying flat on the seat. His eyes are closed, and a smattering of dark red blood covers his face and chest. My heart rate accelerates to a dangerous level as I rapidly search his body for a wound. Was he shot? I didn’t hear or see the other driver with a gun, but I could have missed it.

“Eli! Where are you hurt? Wake up!” I cry. “You’re fine. It’s fine, right? You’ll be okay.” I’m pleading, rambling random words that likely make no sense, but I can’t seem to stop. It gets worse when the only injury I find is a gash on his head. Why isn’t he waking up? Sliding my hand down to his tattooed throat, I place my trembling fingers over his artery, checking for a pulse. My eyes close and I’m pretty positive I stop breathing while I search.

“Why are you here?” he grunts. The quiet but firm demand makes me jump and I stifle a scream that ends up coming out more whimper than anything. His eyes peel open at the sound and his face—his beautiful, freckled face, softens at whatever he sees. “Guess the cats out of the bag, huh?” he murmurs with a slight smirk. It’s that smirk that undoes me, in more ways than one.

A sob catches in my throat as the last few minutes replay in my brain. “I thought—” I begin, but a loud crackle fills the interior of the SUV, followed by a rattle that shakes the car. My eyes fly up, immediately realizing that the smoke I’d previously seen has now become flames. “Oh, fuck!”

Eli’s eyes widen and he shoots to a sitting position, grunting and groaning as he goes. “We have to get out, now!” he barks. I stare at the flames as my adrenaline begins to wane, and then surge, before waning again. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m in shock, possibly verging into true panic attack territory.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Violet! Now!” I jump, slamming back into the present as my eyes lock onto Eli. He’s frantically attempting to pull the driver from his seat but is struggling with the seatbelt. The driver chokes out a pained sound that makes me cringe. “Shit, Joe. I’m trying, fuck.”

Eli’s curse holds a note of anxiety that I’ve yet to hear from him and it startles me into action. I launch myself from the back seat and sprint to my passenger door, going straight for my purse. I dig around blindly for a few seconds before my hand wraps around what I’m searching for. I slam the door shut and quickly return to the burning SUV. I say nothing as I push Eli out of my way with more force than I thought I possessed. Before he’s even able to open his mouth, I’ve sliced through the seatbelt with the switchblade I always keep for protection.

The driver, Joe, slumps down now that the belt isn’t restraining him. I support him as best as I can but fail epically given his deceptively wide frame. Eli pushes me aside, much gentler than I’d just done to him. I murmur an apology and help him remove Joe from the SUV as quickly as possible without jostling him too much.

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