was the one who bought my paintings… I think he might be in on it…”
His face hardened, and he visibly recoiled at the suggestion, “What is wrong with you? Do you really think that everyone is out to get you?”
I bit my lip and looked out the window again. A man walking by looked in at that exact same instant, and when our eyes met I recognized him with a start. It was the man from the Louvre, the one who had followed me and Shayla around Paris.
I gasped, watching as the man looked away and rounded the corner. I jumped up with my heart pounding in my throat, “Cruz! They’re following me– we have to get out of here!”
Now he looked at me like I was completely out of my mind, “Marina, are you on drugs or something?”
I started pacing like an animal in a small cage, “They saw me! On the cameras in the garage! They know that I know… Oh God… Oh God…”
“Whoa, easy,” Cruz started to look scared, but he was scared of me, not for me.
I could feel the jaws of the trap closing, and I fought to beat back my panic. I wanted to run to Ethan, but I couldn’t. I steeled myself, trying to seem rational.
“I need you to take me to my car. RIGHT NOW.”
Cruz paid for the coffees at the cashier, watching me fearfully, like I was a ticking time bomb. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do next. When we got into the convertible and pulled onto the road a familiar looking black sedan with darkened windows materialized right behind us.
I looked in the side mirror, “Cruz, make sure this car doesn’t follow us to Abby’s…Okay?”
He nodded with exaggerated movements, clearly humoring me, as he started taking some random turns through the complex little neighborhood. We lost the car and turned onto the main road again.
“See?” he said.
We drove along in silence, turning onto Abby’s street.
“What the…” he adjusted his mirror, and my blood ran cold. He didn’t even need to tell me. I spun around, surprised to see the sedan right on our tail, not even trying to conceal the fact it was after us… after me.
“They’re coming to get me,” I said, my heart pounding with fear, “You have to get away from me.”
Now Cruz looked surprised, and then concerned, gunning the engine and taking several more rapid turns. This time the car stuck to us like glue.
“Fasten your seatbelt,” Cruz cried, “It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”
He passed Abby’s and took another series of sudden, screaming turns through our neighborhood, watching the rearview mirror in horror as the black sedan followed suit. We got out onto a main road with the car still right on our tail.
“Pull over!” I yelled, not wanting to see Cruz get into an accident. “And drop me off!”
The worst part about getting caught the last time was watching Lorelei go through the whole ordeal. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to Cruz.
“No way!” he yelled, gunning the engine as he turned onto the freeway on-ramp. We sped down the ramp into traffic, Evie’s convertible fishtailing as we screamed around the curve. Weaving in and out of cars like they were standing still, Cruz checked his mirror, finally taking the downtown exit and pulling over at a gas station, engine idling.
He turned to look at me with wide, shocked eyes, “Marina–”
The car suddenly appeared in front of us, screeching to a halt sideways, blocking us from the exit. The windows were tinted so dark I couldn’t see who was inside. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cruz threw the car into reverse and cranked the wheel hard, spinning out to face the repair shop’s open service bays.
He turned to me with a wild look in his eye, gunning the engine and driving into the repair shop. We flew out the open end on the other side, knocking over a rack of tools in the process, and screamed around the back, surprising some workers on a cigarette break. The little convertible finally slid off a curb onto the street, tires screaming in protest. We roared away again.
Now it was my turn to look at Cruz in astonishment, “Where did you learn to drive like that?”
He looked in the rear view and grimaced, and I knew the chase was still on. We sped down a side street, and I turned to see the sedan hot on our trail. I twisted