Giant Men and Violent Women

Say That Again?

PRESLEY ANN

"Someone's following us," Boxer says to me with a calmness that only a convicted killer can have.

My eyes dart to the passenger mirror, and my hand clutches the door handle. To Boxer, someone is following us; to me, we are among the hunted. But, as I look through the window, there's nothing but darkness and fog.

"Where?" I ask. "Why would someone be following us?"

"Date." He doesn't sound bothered at all. He seems fine with the idea that he and I could become collateral damage, thanks to Date.

I, on the other hand, am not fine with the idea.

I make a mental note to banish Date from my life forever and to charge my camera battery in preparation of Jewels's visit tomorrow. As God as my witness, the entire world will know how in love Jewels and I are pretending to be. And, as far as Date, he's been nothing but trouble ever since he decided to become a better person, and frankly, I'm sick of him. I've been a better person for three months, and I have arisen as beautiful as a butterfly.

Date's become a flying cockroach. Enough with that guy.

"Ashley?" I ask Boxer. "Do you think he's following us?"

That could be the only perk to being hunted. It would mean that Ashley didn't run off with Louisiana after all. But, now that I think about it, what kind of person does that make me? To think that I would prefer a man to stalk me than for him to be happy with another woman. Oh,

God...Jewels can't get here fast enough.

"Wouldn't say it was Ashley following us," Boxer says.

And, now, I'm offended.

"Why not?" I ask. Well, now, I can accept that Ashley might not think I'm worth running away with, but certainly, he thinks I'm worth running off the road.

"Probably someone he or Mercer hired. Maybe one of the guys who works at a brewery Mercer owns."

I look in the passenger mirror again. Absolute darkness, the color of an abyss. Not even the shiny eyes of a moose creeping onto the road. This is the silent side of hell.

"But I don't see anyone," I say to Boxer.

"They're there."

"Should I call the cops?"

"Don't think that'll make a difference if Ashley Bragg is trying to get to you."

Those words sink into my thoughts. They sink into my brain. "Go get Ashley."

There is no defense against Ashley Bragg here in New Hampshire.

That's what Date's been trying to tell me. That's what Boxer already knows.

We follow the winding black road to Boston.

I find myself looking forward to the comfort of big and bright Boston lights, streets filled with cops, and sidewalks laced with rioters. The blinding lights and evidence of violence will probably be more comforting than anything. At least then, I won't be alone, in the dark, on a mountain road.

But I immediately think of what Boxer said. "Don't think that'll make a difference if Ashley Bragg is trying to get to you."

Date is in Boston, and he's shaking in the backseat of a rented town car all because Ashley is hunting him. And here I am, on a mountain road, clutching the passenger door with bone-crushing intensity, all because Ashley is following me. But Ashley Bragg isn't God. He can't be in two places at one time, so where the hell is he? Who is he after? Date or me?