car. It’s not an Operation Wraith car.”
I hoped, anyway.
In front of me, the slow pot-smoking car put on its blinker and turned right.
I sped up to a normal speed.
The car behind me sped up too.
I rocked back and forth, gripping the steering wheel as tight as I could. “Turn,” I begged the car. “Turn off.”
But then it was time for my turn. I turned onto Grafton Road. Now, I’d be okay.
The car behind me turned
too
.
Fuck. What were the odds?
I had to stay on this road for fifteen minutes. Surely the car would turn off soon.
I kept driving. I slowed down. If I went slow, the car would pass me, right?
It didn’t pass me. I slowed down further.
It slowed down too.
I drove that way for a long time, creeping along the road, my gaze flitting from the road to my rear view mirror. Certainly, they’d pass me soon. Or they’d turn off onto another road. They couldn’t keep following me forever.
Unless...
The car behind me was following me on purpose. I gulped.
Finally, I got close to my turn for 29. Now, I’d lose the car behind me. I’d realize how silly I’d been. It would all turn out just fine.
But when I got to the next turn, onto 29,
the freaking car behind me turned too.
Chapter Four
“Oh fuck,” I muttered. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” There was only one reason that Benton would ask those weird questions. Op Wraith had gotten to him. He must have called them after I left, and the car behind me must be Op Wraith agents. I just knew it.
Why had I ditched Griffin again? When had that ever seemed like a good idea?
Griffin!
I scrabbled to find my phone and turn it on.
I tried to dial, but I kept messing up. I was having a hard time driving with only one hand.
The phone rang.
I screamed.
It was Griffin. I picked up. “Griffin?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m leaving Morgantown. There’s a car following me.”
“Morgantown? Where the heck is...? Hold up, this car’s got GPS. I’ll program it in.”
“This car? How do you have a car? Did you steal it?”
“You ran off on me. What else was I supposed to do? Besides, I’m more borrowing it, really. I’m not going to keep it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was close to tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m really—”
“Spare me, doll. Just tell me exactly where you are, please.”
“I...” I looked around in the darkness. “I’m on 29.”
“There aren’t any landmarks, cross streets?”
“This is West Virginia,” I said. “There are trees. And hills. And—”
“Okay, okay.”
“There’s a car following me, Griffin. I think it’s Operation Wraith.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked.
“Well, because when I went to see my dealer, he was asking all these questions.”
“You went to see a dealer? You ran off on me to go buy cocaine?”
“Yes,” I said in a small voice.
He sighed. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry!” I said. “But you were—”
I broke off, because the car behind me was pulling into the lane next to me to pass. I watched as its taillights disappeared in the distance in front of me.
“Doll?”
“N-never mind,” I said. “The car passed me. It wasn’t them.”
“They wouldn’t be obvious about following you,” said Griffin. “They’re trained not to be seen. You wouldn’t know they were there.”
That didn’t make me feel better. Here I was, starting to bask in relief because the car had passed me, and I wasn’t in danger, and Griffin had to rip the rug out from under me like that.
“Tell me what your dealer was asking.”
“He wanted to know where I live,” I said. “He’s never cared about stuff like that before. He was really interested in me, and usually, I’m nothing to him. He doesn’t even know who I am, really. So...”
“Did you tell him where you live?”
“No. I’m not that stupid.”
“Good,” said Griffin. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I can get to 29, I think. I can meet you at the intersection of 29 and 92.
I hoped, anyway.
In front of me, the slow pot-smoking car put on its blinker and turned right.
I sped up to a normal speed.
The car behind me sped up too.
I rocked back and forth, gripping the steering wheel as tight as I could. “Turn,” I begged the car. “Turn off.”
But then it was time for my turn. I turned onto Grafton Road. Now, I’d be okay.
The car behind me turned
too
.
Fuck. What were the odds?
I had to stay on this road for fifteen minutes. Surely the car would turn off soon.
I kept driving. I slowed down. If I went slow, the car would pass me, right?
It didn’t pass me. I slowed down further.
It slowed down too.
I drove that way for a long time, creeping along the road, my gaze flitting from the road to my rear view mirror. Certainly, they’d pass me soon. Or they’d turn off onto another road. They couldn’t keep following me forever.
Unless...
The car behind me was following me on purpose. I gulped.
Finally, I got close to my turn for 29. Now, I’d lose the car behind me. I’d realize how silly I’d been. It would all turn out just fine.
But when I got to the next turn, onto 29,
the freaking car behind me turned too.
Chapter Four
“Oh fuck,” I muttered. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” There was only one reason that Benton would ask those weird questions. Op Wraith had gotten to him. He must have called them after I left, and the car behind me must be Op Wraith agents. I just knew it.
Why had I ditched Griffin again? When had that ever seemed like a good idea?
Griffin!
I scrabbled to find my phone and turn it on.
I tried to dial, but I kept messing up. I was having a hard time driving with only one hand.
The phone rang.
I screamed.
It was Griffin. I picked up. “Griffin?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m leaving Morgantown. There’s a car following me.”
“Morgantown? Where the heck is...? Hold up, this car’s got GPS. I’ll program it in.”
“This car? How do you have a car? Did you steal it?”
“You ran off on me. What else was I supposed to do? Besides, I’m more borrowing it, really. I’m not going to keep it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I was close to tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m really—”
“Spare me, doll. Just tell me exactly where you are, please.”
“I...” I looked around in the darkness. “I’m on 29.”
“There aren’t any landmarks, cross streets?”
“This is West Virginia,” I said. “There are trees. And hills. And—”
“Okay, okay.”
“There’s a car following me, Griffin. I think it’s Operation Wraith.”
“Why would you think that?” he asked.
“Well, because when I went to see my dealer, he was asking all these questions.”
“You went to see a dealer? You ran off on me to go buy cocaine?”
“Yes,” I said in a small voice.
He sighed. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry!” I said. “But you were—”
I broke off, because the car behind me was pulling into the lane next to me to pass. I watched as its taillights disappeared in the distance in front of me.
“Doll?”
“N-never mind,” I said. “The car passed me. It wasn’t them.”
“They wouldn’t be obvious about following you,” said Griffin. “They’re trained not to be seen. You wouldn’t know they were there.”
That didn’t make me feel better. Here I was, starting to bask in relief because the car had passed me, and I wasn’t in danger, and Griffin had to rip the rug out from under me like that.
“Tell me what your dealer was asking.”
“He wanted to know where I live,” I said. “He’s never cared about stuff like that before. He was really interested in me, and usually, I’m nothing to him. He doesn’t even know who I am, really. So...”
“Did you tell him where you live?”
“No. I’m not that stupid.”
“Good,” said Griffin. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I can get to 29, I think. I can meet you at the intersection of 29 and 92.
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