A few miles later, the double glow of twin headlights appeared on the horizon. She gunned the engine, pressing the pedal as far down as it would go, and considered how she’d flag down the occupant of the car.
The best she could think of was to slow down and wave one arm in the air. As it passed her, she got a look at the face in the driver’s window. Mentally, she cursed her luck. Her captor’s face was the picture of shocked.
Francine lowered her arm and floored the accelerator pedal. The whine of the engine increased as the dial inched toward maximum. In the sideview mirror, she saw the car do a U-turn and come after her. The twin headlights lit up the road around her. Space potatoes.
Her top speed didn’t seem fast enough to beat the car bearing down on her. It didn’t take long for her captor’s car to gain on her, moving ever closer. The lights got brighter and brighter.
She was forced to slow for a curve in the road to keep all four tires on the pavement, but sped as soon as it straightened out.
Her captor continued to gain on her. Pretty soon he’d be close enough to ram her off the road. Was that his goal? Or was he going to try and get her back on that spaceship? Not happening.
Francine lowered her head and body as if hugging the frame of the rover would make her more aerodynamic. It didn’t.
The car started to pass her. She tried to accelerate, but was already going the maximum. She wove across the road, making him fall back and try to pass her on the right. Nope.
Francine steered to the right to keep him behind her. If he got past her it was all over.
Another curve in the road slowed them both momentarily, but he started gaining on her as soon as they were through.
Ahead on the right side of the road was a sign she couldn’t read yet. What was that?
Joy burst inside her at the sight of the Alienn city limits sign and plummeted in the next second when her captor came alongside her in a burst of speed her rover couldn’t match.
The passenger window lowered. “Francine!” he screamed. “Turn around or else!”
Or else what?Francine thought.
Hard no.
She stomped the accelerator and moved ahead of him, but he matched her easily and shouted out the passenger window again. “No one else can have you if I can’t!” His face was a scary mask of determination.
Francine thought about making a vulgar Earther finger gesture, but didn’t want to have to explain that it was an insult. She kept going forward as fast as the rover would go, her body hugging the frame. She heard a helicopter, wondered if it was the same one and wished it was friendly and looking for her.
Her captor moved ahead of her and started to pull in front of the rover as they climbed a small incline. At the crest, looking down the hill that was steep and long, she saw salvation.
The chopper came into view overhead and a spotlight from the undercarriage shone down on both of them as they sped toward a police barricade at the bottom of the hill.
Francine eased her foot off the accelerator. Her captor must have slammed on his brakes, because his vehicle began to fishtail, tires squealing, as she passed him.
Wyatt Campbell stood behind the barricade, bullhorn in one hand. Or was it a Defender? Hard to tell.
Her captor stopped his car, did a sloppy, off-road U-turn and disappeared back over the hill. Francine drove her rover into the space between two law enforcement cruisers with just enough room to get through.
The first person she saw was Raphael approaching at a blurringly fast clip. He grabbed her off the rover before she came to a complete stop, squeezing her in his sturdy embrace, kissing her cheeks, face and lips, repeating, “I love you, Francine,” in between each kiss.
Francine held tight and breathed his luscious scent deeply into her lungs, joyful for the first time since they’d been parted.
“It’s you,” Francine managed. Not a fake Raphael.
He stopped kissing her to stare adoringly into her eyes. The love in his gaze reached her soul. “I’ve been looking for you, Francine.”
He pulled her violet diamond engagement ring from his pocket and slid it on the appropriate finger. Francine teared up. “I thought I lost it. Thank you so much.”
“Edgar left it in the glovebox.”
“It’s not Edgar,” she said.
He nodded. “I know. Apparently Edgar’s been dead for almost a year.”
