Cars and leather

Chapter 1

The black mustang races after me. I press harder on the pedal and the speed of my spyder accelerates to 240. But the car behind seems to get even closer. Sweat trickles down my forehead and I wipe it with my sleeve. Fear in me rising and rising.

The road is empty and dark, my only friend right now is my Porsche and it's headlights. The sound of mustang is awful, of it's motor. Roaring like a giant beast. Getting louder and louder. What does it want of me?

It has been following me for weeks now, everytime it catches up with me after 6pm. It appears no matter where I am, like a ghost. Thanks God, i was faster all the time. Even though I'm a street racer, I can't handle long racings. I feel dizzy and sick after 2 hour race.

I turn right and stop at a port. I turn off my headlights to not drag attention. The mustang is gone. I check my watch, it has been 2 hours exactly. Everyday since that first day it followed me and disappeared right after two hours.

I hear a loud ringing and I jump in my seat from fear. Then I realize it's just my phone. I reach for it in my pocket.

*Blocked ID*

Shows the screen of my iphone. What does this mean?

"Hello?" I mumble at once as I pick up. My heart beats insanely fast.

"You did well tonight" a disembodied voice of a male mutters on the other line.

Could this be the black mustang?

"Who are you?" I ask, keeping my voice calm. But inside, my heart is ready to jump out of my chest.

"Next time will be longer, make certain to train better" he says plainly, as if he hasn't heard my question.

"I will always be faster" I promise, anxious about pride in my voice.

"But somehow I end up two steps ahead, Helen" I hear him smiling on the other line. And then...

Toot, toot, toot.

He hanged up.

I get even more anxious now that he knows my name. Who might he be? Probably someone I met already. What does he mean by two steps ahead?

I squirm in my seat, briskly scanning the port outside my window. Only dark, I see only dark. But there it is, spotted!

Right in front of me, few miles away. On a roof of a one-storey house -definitely abandoned- , a black mustang with headlights off stands proudly facing me. Like a wolf on a cliff, ready to howl At the moon. But as soon as spotted it drives back silently in the darkness and disappears.

Now I have to bring myself to look presentable for my mom. In case she is at my apartment again. Lately she's been showing up quiet a lot, drinking some alcohol shake all day long. I must think about the mustang later.

I examine my face and hair in the rear-view mirror and get terrified. My bang of chestnut colored hair has parted itself in many wet strands and my mascara has all run down, making my eyes look like two grey flashlights. I definitely need to comb my hair and wash my face but not here and I can't go to my apartment like this. The only choice is to find a nearest cafe and go there to the bathroom.

Bob's Cafe is located on 7th street -the nearest cafe to the port. It's attached to a cheap motel and a gas station. I park my car at the entrance with many black shinny bikes standing by. Few of bikers in leathers are chatting noisily next To their vehicles, as if guarding.

Good that I wore my leathers too, won't be hard to blend in the crowd.

Inside the cafe, the atmosphere is loud and packed. Only men in leather, and vulgar women accompanying them. I'm obviously the only female in leathers here. I look around for the toilets and find it at the far end. I start my way, breaking through the crowd of idle people.

The toilet is single, foul-smelling and in white tiles. The tissue paper is all over the toilet, sink and floor. Dirty and clean. Judging by the odor, this place did not get it's disinfection for a while -a long while.

Now that I washed my face and combed my hair, I need water. I'm so thirsty that I feel all the water from my body has drained in the racing of two hours. That Goddamn mustang, I must find out who he is. I must, but not tonight I need to get home and have some rest.

As I head to the counter, the phone in my pocket buzzes. My heart stops for a moment, afraid that it's the mustang stalker, I hesitate. But I reach to check who it is anyway. I sigh with relief as my mom's picture appears as the callers ID.

I'm just about to slide the green icon for the answer button as my phone flies from my hand and I bump into someone as hard as stone. He catches my phone in one hand and holds me at my shoulder with the other. I turn to look up at him and my eyes get wide in astonishment.

He is so handsome, his hair colored in the brightest blonde I have ever seen and his eyes are two grey-blue crystals. He is dressed in black leathers like the bikers and his chest muscles are visible under the black t-shirt he's wearing with his jacket. He smirks and his eyes sparkle.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice deep and rough but smooth at the same time. He examines me, still holding me and my phone.

I drop my eyes and find my voice. "Yes" I smile, looking up at him. "I'm okay" I nod, assuring him that I really am okay.

"Here, then" he hands me my phone and let's go of his grasp.

"Thanks" I flush.

"You're welcome" he smiles "I'm Nathan Monroe"

"Helen Wrights"

"Do you want anything to drink or eat, Helen? I'll be fast, I know everyone in here"

"Water"

I wait at the entrance of the cafe for him to come back with water, gazing at my grey Porsche. If not for this car, I would have lost to mustang. Mustang, mustang, mustang...

Argh! Who is he? What does he want from me?

Nathan comes back with a bottle of water in his hand and grins. White, perfect teeth grin.

"Thanks" I blush as I accept it.

I take a heavenly sip as it fills my body, I feel much hyper. Only a sip of water to bring me back to my car.

I notice Nathan on his knees, touching something under my car. I step aside and he gets it out, a small black box. He gets up on his knees and holds the device at eye level. He examines it and frowns at me.

Is that what I'm thinking?

"A tracking device" he says, his voice low and husky.