“I know. It’s just so surreal.”
I take her hand and bring it to my lips. “You’ll get used to it.”
She shakes her head. “Jury’s still out.”
I growl, frowning at her, which makes her laugh.
We pull out of the parking lot, heading toward the main road. She’s telling me about her day: difficult patients, her funny coworkers, some new equipment they just got.
I’m listening, stealing glances at her, fucking loving the way her gorgeous face lights up when she talks.
But then I notice a black SUV three cars behind us. I glance in the rearview mirror. It’s been there since we left the clinic. Could be nothing.
I switch lanes. It switches too. Fuck.
“Baby,” I say, cutting her off mid-sentence.
Nadia looks at me. “Yeah?”
“I need you to trust me.”
Her smile fades. “Is… is something wrong?”
“We’re being followed,” I tell her in a calm voice, my eyes tracking the car tailing us.
Her eyes widen, and she starts to turn around.
“Don’t look,” I order calmly. I squeeze her hand. “I got you.”
“Zak…”
“I got this, but I need you to stay put. Okay?”
She nods, eyes wide. So fucking brave.
I floor the accelerator pedal, and the Maserati roars to life, shooting forward. And, of course, the SUV speeds up behind us.
Nadia grabs her door handle. “Oh my God!”
“Hold on, baby.”
I weave through traffic. The SUV struggles to keep up. But then another one pops out of an adjacent street, coming from the side. Fuck.
I swerve, cutting across two lanes. Horns blare all around us.
Nadia’s breathing hard. She’s scared but not screaming, not panicking. Fuck, I love my girl.
I take a sharp turn. Then another. Losing them in a maze of streets.
Finally, I see an opening and I gun it, putting distance between us.
And five minutes later, we’re in the clear.
I slow down, check the mirrors. Nothing.
“Are they gone?” Nadia asks in a shaky voice.
“Yes, baby.” I wrap a hand at the back of her neck and squeeze reassuringly.
