Blades of the Heart: Bound by betrayal...

Chapter 4: Racing against Ghosts

„The path ahead twisted and turned, a Labyrinth of choices and consequences"

Akaya's POV

The engine hummed beneath her, the vibrations thrumming up through her palms as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. The empty stretch of road lay before her like a promise, the glow of the streetlights fading into the darkness. She knew he was behind her—could feel the weight of his presence even through the thick metal and glass of the car. It was a strange kind of comfort, knowing he was there, even if he was a threat she couldn't ignore.

She had half-expected him to back off, to stay inside the safety of the club and watch her leave with that inscrutable gaze of his, but no. She had felt his eyes burning into her back the whole time she walked away, and it had been a relief when she finally hit the cool night air. She had barely slid behind the wheel when she heard the low growl of his engine, and her pulse quickened with something she refused to name.

Anticipation.

No, she reminded herself, it was anger. She was angry that he kept showing up, angry that he thought he could get under her skin with his carefully worded provocations. Angry that he was getting too close to something she didn't want him to see. She had told him to leave her alone, but he hadn't listened. He never listened.

Fine. If he wanted to follow, she'd lead him somewhere he couldn't keep up.

Her foot hit the gas, and the car shot forward, the tires squealing against the asphalt. The city blurred around her, neon lights turning into smears of color as she pushed the speedometer higher. She knew these streets like the back of her hand—had driven them a hundred times in a hundred different races, and each turn felt like second nature. But tonight wasn't about winning. It was about seeing if he could keep up.

She checked the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see him already falling behind, but he was there, keeping pace with her effortlessly. His car, sleek and black, looked like a shadow chasing her through the night. Her jaw tightened, and she pushed harder, slicing through traffic with a precision that left no room for error.

The headlights behind her swerved, dodging the same obstacles she did, and she felt a jolt of irritation spark through her. He was good. Too good. She had seen him race before, knew that he had a reputation on the circuit, but she hadn't expected him to be this relentless. She banked hard around a corner, her tires skidding for a split second before they caught, and she allowed herself a breath of relief.

She needed to shake him. Needed to get away before he forced her to confront whatever this was that flared to life every time their paths crossed.

Up ahead, the city lights dimmed, the skyline giving way to the familiar, winding curves of the old industrial district. Abandoned warehouses loomed like shadows on either side of the road, and she pressed down on the gas, feeling the car respond with a roar. She glanced in the mirror again, and this time, she saw his headlights disappear around the bend behind her.

But she couldn't slow down. Not yet. Her eyes darted to the side streets, calculating the quickest way out of the labyrinth of crumbling buildings that loomed on all sides. She knew this area better than anyone—had spent years learning every shortcut, every hidden alley that could mean the difference between winning and losing.

And she wasn't about to lose to him.

A flash of movement in her rearview mirror caught her attention, and she cursed under her breath as he reappeared, his headlights catching the taillights of her car. He was closer now, close enough that she could almost feel the heat of his engine through the thin metal of her car. Her pulse quickened, and she took a sharp left, skidding into an alley so narrow that her side mirrors nearly scraped the walls.

He followed. Damn him, he followed.

She heard the roar of his engine echoing off the concrete as he tore down the same alley, closing the distance between them with alarming speed. Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to focus, to not let the panic sink its claws into her chest. She needed to lose him—had to, before he got too close. Before he saw the truth.

She shot out of the alley and onto a side street, the sudden change in direction throwing her off balance for a second, but she recovered quickly, yanking the wheel and straightening out. He was still there, a dark blur in her peripheral vision, and she knew she couldn't keep this up much longer. The road ahead opened up, leading toward the old rail yards, and she made a split-second decision.

One last risk.

She hit the gas, her car leaping forward as she aimed for the narrow bridge that spanned the dry riverbed at the edge of the industrial zone. It was a tight fit—dangerous at this speed—but she didn't slow down. She didn't dare. The bridge loomed closer, the gaps in its rusted railings like a mouth waiting to swallow her whole, and she held her breath as she sped toward it.

She heard him behind her, the sound of his car a low, relentless growl that matched the hammering of her heart.

Then she was on the bridge, the car jolting beneath her as the wheels hit the uneven metal. She forced herself to keep the wheel steady, to not flinch as the narrow path closed in around her. Her headlights caught the other side, and she shot across, tires skidding as she hit the pavement on the far side with a bone-rattling thud.

But she didn't stop. She tore down the next stretch of road without checking the mirror, not daring to hope that she had finally shaken him.

Then, a shadow loomed in her peripheral vision, and her heart sank. He had made it. He was right beside her, his car pacing hers, close enough that she could see the determined set of his jaw through the window. Close enough that she could feel the intensity of his gaze, burning through the darkness between them.

He wasn't giving up.

She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, anger and frustration boiling up inside her in a way that made her vision blur. This was her domain—her turf. How could he be keeping up so easily?

The road narrowed ahead, curving sharply toward the old train yards, and she knew she had one last chance to lose him. She downshifted, throwing the car into a tight turn, and felt the tires scream against the asphalt. Her car fishtailed, but she caught it just in time, hurtling around the bend with a speed that left no room for error.

But he was right there, mirroring her every move. Matching her.

Damn him. Damn him for not letting her have this, for not backing down when every rational person would have given up by now. Damn him for making her care whether or not he crashed. Her hands tightened on the wheel, her knuckles white, and she fought the urge to scream.

Then, as if sensing her desperation, he pulled closer, his car nudging into her lane. For a heartbeat, she thought he was going to try and force her off the road, but he didn't. Instead, he fell back just enough to pull alongside her, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath.

She knew what he wanted. He was daring her to stop, daring her to end this before it went too far. But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

With a growl of frustration, she yanked the wheel hard to the right, cutting him off and speeding down the narrow path that would lead her out of the industrial zone. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, and it was enough—enough for her to gain the distance she needed, to slip through the maze of side streets with the ease of someone who had driven them a thousand times before.

When she finally hit the highway, her chest heaving and her heart slamming against her ribs, she risked a glance in the mirror.

Empty.

He was gone.

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers trembling on the wheel as the adrenaline drained out of her in a rush. She had lost him. For now.

But she knew, deep down, that this wasn't over. He was persistent—too damn persistent—and she had a feeling that no matter how fast she ran, he would always find a way to keep up.

Akaya's gaze hardened, and she slammed her foot down on the gas, her car surging forward into the night.

If he wanted a chase, he'd get one. But she'd make damn sure he regretted it.