Read Online Past Tense by Freda Vasilopoulos - Free Book Online

it gas. The front wheels spun, futilely scrambling for traction in the slippery grass. He let up the accelerator. The rear slid and settled deeper.
    With an angry twist, he turned the key and jerked it out of the ignition. “It’s not working. We’ll have to get help.”
    Secondary reaction set in as Sam got out of the car. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the edge of the door to steady herself. For a moment the earth swirled around her, but the cold rain soaking her hair and running down her neck jolted strength back into her limbs.
    “Here’s an umbrella.” Tony thrust it into her hands as he slammed the door and locked the car.
    Sam opened the umbrella, finding that two of the ribs were bent. She twisted at them, in the process giving herself another drenching, this time from the top of the umbrella.
    Tony came around to her side. He spent a moment examining the ugly black dent in the rear fender. “Damn.” Fortunately, the taillights were undamaged.
    “It could have been worse,” Sam said faintly. Actually she was surprised that the fender was still attached. Judging by the noise of the crash, she’d expected half the car to be wrecked.
    “Yeah. We could have been killed.” Taking the umbrella from her hand, Tony wrestled it into a semblance of its original shape and held it high to protect them both.
    Resentment flared within her at his tone. “It’s not my fault,” she snapped. “I wasn’t driving that bloody truck.”
    “I didn’t say it was your fault. Damn umbrella.” He glared at the tear in the fabric that allowed the rain to leak on their heads, then fixed his eyes on her. “You slipped again. You’re supposed to say lorry.”
    “Truck, lorry. What does it matter?”
    “What matters is that I’d like to know what the hell’s going on.” Tony bit off the words.
    Frustration at his lack of progress with Samantha, and the strain of driving the narrow country roads in the rain had already put him in an irritable mood. And now this accident, that he wasn’t sure had been an accident. The rush of adrenaline had subsided, leaving in its place intense edginess and an irrational need to blame somebody for it.
    “Come on, Samantha.” He forced himself to speak more calmly. “We have to get help. That car’s not going to get out of the ditch by itself.”
    He swiped with his hand at the water dripping down his face. Tucking her arm under his, he brought them both into the dubious shelter of the umbrella and began to walk down the road.
    “Samantha, when are you going to tell me who’s after you?”
    Her heartbeat accelerated, and sweat broke out on her palms despite the chill that seeped into her bones. “What makes you think somebody’s after me? I had nothing to do with the accident.”
    “No? Well, something’s not right. That blue Mini was following us almost all the way from London. You’re the one who won’t talk about her past. It sure as hell wasn’t following me.”
    She stopped in her tracks, then skipped to catch up as the rain pelted her head. “So that’s why you were interested in the Mini.” She was proud of the steadiness of her voice even as a tremor shook her limbs.
    “Yes. Now will you tell me the truth, Samantha?”
    The truth? What was the truth? Threats and speculations? “I can’t, Tony. Believe me. It could be dangerous.”
    “It’s dangerous now.” He stopped and faced her, tucking the handle of the umbrella under his arm as he grasped her shoulders. To her amazement, she realized his hands were trembling.
    “Samantha,” he said, his voice husky. “Somebody tried to kill you. That truck was headed straight for your side of the car.”
    Panic rose in her throat, but she shook her head, as if denial would alter the conviction in his statement. “No. No.”
    “Yes, Sam. Yes.” His eyes probed her pale face, his hands gentle on her shoulders in a gesture that was not quite an embrace. “Samantha, when will you tell me everything? I want to help