The Chase
The city was quiet—too quiet for my liking.
The second I slid behind the wheel, I felt it. That gnawing, restless pull deep in my gut, like something was off. Wrong. I tried to shake it off as I started the engine, the growl of the motor roaring to life in the stillness of the night. The tires screeched against the pavement as I pulled away from the curb, heading straight for Miller's mansion.
Ariana’s words echoed in my head, over and over.
"It’s just for tonight."
But that didn’t sit right with me. Not after what we’d shared. Not after the way she looked at me like I was the only real thing in her world.
I needed to see her again. Now.
My foot pressed harder on the gas, weaving through the slick, empty streets of Chicago. The air was cold, slicing through the cracks of my partially open window, but I barely felt it. All I could focus on was the racing of my heart and the need to make sure she was safe.
Then I saw it.
A pair of headlights in my rearview mirror.
I frowned. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid. It was late—hell, it was practically morning—and the streets were mostly dead. But this car wasn’t just behind me. It was following me.
I made a sharp right.
So did they.
Left at the next block.
Still there.
“Shit,” I muttered.
I wasn’t just imagining things.
This wasn’t a coincidence.
I floored it, shifting gears and taking the next corner faster than I should’ve. Tires squealed behind me, and adrenaline surged through my veins.
They were gaining on me.
Who the hell follows someone this close to dawn in a blacked-out sedan? And why me?
I gritted my teeth, making a mental note of every turn I took. This wasn’t some amateur joyride. Whoever they were, they knew how to drive—and they were good. Too good.
Were they watching me earlier tonight? Had they been outside the building?
The same damn car had been parked a few feet from my meeting with the private investigator. At the time, I dismissed it as nothing. A coincidence. But now?
Now I wasn’t so sure.
I cut down a side alley, barely wide enough to fit my car. Trash cans clattered as I grazed one of them, but I kept going, headlights bouncing wildly against graffiti-covered walls. The sedan hesitated—only for a second—before following me in.
They were relentless.
I slammed the steering wheel with the heel of my palm. “Come on!”
Think, Hardin.
You’ve been in tighter corners than this.
The alley spit me out onto a larger street. I took a hard left, tires burning rubber. The lights of the city flared around me, but I didn’t slow down. I had one goal—lose the tail. Then figure out who the hell wanted to follow me this badly.
Was this about Ariana? Was someone watching her?
The thought made my blood run cold.
No. No way in hell I was going to let anyone hurt her. Not on my watch.
I zigzagged through traffic, ducking into an underground parking garage. I killed the lights and eased into a dark corner, heart hammering. A few seconds later, the black sedan coasted past the entrance, slow and searching.
I exhaled sharply.
Lost them.
For now.
But the paranoia didn’t leave. It clung to me like a second skin, even as I sat in the dark, trying to steady my breathing. My hands tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.
Who the fuck was that?
And what did they want with me?
The garage was eerily silent, only the faint hum of the city above filtering through the concrete walls. I didn’t move, not yet. Not until I was sure they were gone.
My phone buzzed.
I snatched it off the console.
Still nothing from Ariana.
I should’ve stayed with her. Should’ve held her until morning. But I knew her well enough now to understand—when she said she had to go, she meant it. She wasn’t running. She was protecting something. Someone.
Still, I couldn’t shake the unease.
Was she really alone out there?
Was she safe?
I gritted my teeth and shoved the car back into gear. I wasn’t going to sit here like some coward, hiding in a parking garage. Whoever was tailing me wasn’t just some random thug. This was calculated. Measured. Intentional.
And if they were watching me, they could’ve been watching her too.
I had to get to her. Now.
The tires screeched again as I exited the garage, the night swallowing me whole once more. I retraced my route, doubling back on purpose, scanning every turn, every mirror, every passing car.
No sign of the sedan.
Still, my gut screamed that this wasn’t over.
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