His hand clamped my mouth shut before I could read off the rest of my address.
“Now.” Mathew grabbed the knife again, testing its edge against his thumb. A thin line of red appeared, and I could smell the copper scent of blood, mixing with the lingering chemical odor in the air. “You’re really not going to like this part.”
61
AXEL
A river of taillights stretched before me like a blood-red warning, and wind rushed through my hair, across my skin, the violent rumble of the engine vibrating through my entire body until my bones hummed with it.
Move. Faster.
With my heart racing, I wove through traffic at dangerous speeds, running another red light. Horns blared behind me as the city around me blurred into a kaleidoscope of streetlights and headlights piercing through the darkness.
Hold on, Sunshine. Just hold on.
Taking a sharp left, the bike nearly tipped over and the world tilted sickeningly before I corrected, with adrenaline flooding my system. A split-second reminder that if I crashed, I was no good to her.
But I can’t slow down. Not now.
I picked up speed, swerving right around a white sedan, left around a black pickup truck, leaning into every turn until theasphalt felt inches from my knee. Skyscrapers flew past me in towering blurs of glass and steel.
I should’ve seen this coming.
Mathew’s obsession. The threats. The flowers. All of it had been building to this, and I’d been too focused on our fake engagement, too caught up in falling for her to see the real danger lurking in the shadows.
I should’ve protected her.
My knuckles were white on the handlebars, heart pounding so hard, I could hear it, even over the engine’s roar. The speedometer climbed higher. Sixty, seventy, eighty through city streets that weren’t meant for this kind of speed.
What if he’s already?—
No. I couldn’t think like that. Dakota was strong. She’d fight him. She’d find a way to survive until I got there.
She had to.
The familiar streets of her neighborhood came into view, and I leaned hard into the final turn. Rubber squealed against asphalt, the smell of burning tire once again filling my nose.
Almost there.
Please don’t let me be too late.
62
DAKOTA
I tried two more times to scream my address, my location, and his identity for police, but Mathew clamped my mouth each time until finally, he threatened me.
“I’ll stuff your mouth with cloth,” he warned. “But you might choke to death on it.”
My heart stilled. I couldn’t risk choking. I had to keep him talking, keep dragging this out, looking for an opportunity to escape or pray to hell the cops would show up in time.
“You’re never going to get away with this.” I thrashed around, trying to escape the knife.
“If you don’t hold still, you’re likely to really get hurt, Dakota. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” His voice was sickeningly patient, like he was talking to a child.
“You’re about to slash my throat.”
“Not yet, Dakota. Not yet.” The promise in those words made my blood turn to ice.
