Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Putting my focus back on the present, I run the wiper blade just long enough to clear my view. And right on cue, the tall, moderately built silhouette of Taj comes around the corner, his body swaying as water flicks off the heels of his sneakers. The sound of passing cars over the wet pavement is the only sound I hear as I pull away from the curb and creep several feet behind him with my headlights off.
Every evening, like clockwork, he runs. Sometimes it’s right after a lecture or dinner, but always before calling it a night. Some of those late-night jogs happen after he’s finished fucking someone who isn’t Siân. My suspicions about the two of them were spot-on, and I didn’t need to see Kyla sneaking out of his place before dawn to prove it. It was written all over her face that day in their living room. The day I let my anger get the best of me. Not to mention the cuff link I found under her bed, an object I’ve been holding on to. At some point, it’ll come in handy, but I’m not sure when yet.
Taj doesn’t notice me right away, not with his hearing impaired by the earphones he’s wearing. But the farther we get down the street, something alerts him of my presence, and he peers over his shoulder. The movement is quick at first, then he does a double take, almost as if he doesn’t notice the old beat-up Chevy rolling slowly behind him the first time. When he picks up speed, I realize he’s spotted me.
He’s smart, though, keeping his pace even so as not to give himself away. We reach the end of the very long block, and when he rounds the neatly trimmed bushes at the corner, he peeks once more. A million thoughts are probably running through his mind, wondering if it’s all in his head or if I am indeed following him. He gets his answer the moment I hit the curve, and then he pivots down a side street, still glancing behind him as he does.
I follow suit, stopping in the center of the street. Taj halts his run, his chest heaving as the light hits him at an angle. The rain has picked up; the droplets falling against my windshield with a vengeance. He’s staring in my direction and maneuvering his head to get a better look at the vehicle. I sit still for a moment, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. I rev the engine, shift the gears, and spin the tires, causing the loud roar of the car to scream through the neighborhood. Taj flinches, but he’s frozen in place.
This is what I live for. Even though I’m several yards away, I can still see the fear building in his chest. The colorless stare he gives as his brain tries desperately to catch up with his body. What should he do? Run or wait it out?
My grin grows wider, and I shift back into drive. Almost as if he can read my mind, Taj shuffles on his feet and takes several steps back. His feet move faster than his brain can register, and he falls flat on his ass. With his eyes wide, he crawls backward on his hands, then shifts and crawl-walks on all fours until he’s upright again. He nearly loses his balance but somehow pulls it together long enough to take off into a full sprint down the street, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.
Only one problem, though, he lives in the opposite direction.
He cuts across into the street, racing against the horsepower of the old Chevy I borrowed from a junkie. It’s close—too close. I slam on the brakes, missing him by a hair. Taj freezes for a beat, staring into the car, his chest heaving and eyes full of trepidation. If not for the dark shades and hood I wear, he’d know who’s behind the wheel. And the dread that creeps across his features when he realizes he still hasn’t a clue who I am settles deep in my gut, making me feel—full.
He blinks, and all the sense seems to return to him as he scrambles backward and takes off east toward his home. A chuckle leaves me, and I quickly back a U-turn to follow him down another side street. He’s running for his life, his legs moving faster than his body can stand. Taj trips again, but he keeps himself upright. Then he shoots down an alleyway, and I come to a screeching halt. He takes off, the evidence of his days as a track star ringing loud and clear.
Once he’s out of sight, I flip on the headlights, a smile pulling on my face for a job well done. I didn’t want to hurt him tonight, only scare him, and by the looks of things, I’ve done just that. Taj disappears into a neighbor’s yard, and I pull off in the other direction. He got away for now, but I’m not nearly done with him yet.