Page 104 of Riot’s Revenge

“Stop being paranoid,” I muttered. Riot had infected me. Spend enough time around the Dead Knights and suddenly every unfamiliar vehicle felt threatening.

I changed lanes and the car changed lanes behind me. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. There was no reason to panic. I took a left back toward Reaper and Lucy’s neighborhood instead of continuing home.

The car followed and my pulse kicked harder. I reached for my phone where it sat in the cupholder, but before my fingers touched it, the vehicle surged forward. Its headlights flooded the inside of my car, far too close. I pressed harder on the accelerator. The engine whined as my speed climbed. The car kept pace easily.

“Come on,” I whispered. “Turn off.”

It didn’t. A loud bang struck the back of the car.

I screamed and jerked the wheel, tires skidding briefly before I managed to straighten them again. What the hell was that? Another bang hit the boot. Something had been thrown at me.

My breath came too quickly as I grabbed for my phone again.

The car behind me swerved into the opposite lane and pulled alongside. Its windows were dark, and I couldn’t see the driver or how many people were inside.

I hit the brakes, and the other car slowed with me. Then something exploded against my passenger window and glass cracked across the surface in a white spiderweb.

A scream tore from my throat. I stamped down on the accelerator and grabbed my phone, nearly dropping it when my hands refused to work properly. Before I could unlock the screen, the other car slammed into the passenger side. Metal screamed and the impact threw me sideways against my seat belt and sent my phone flying beneath the passenger seat.

My car veered toward the edge of the road. I fought the steering wheel, dragging it back before I hit the curb.

The other vehicle struck me again. Harder.

Pain shot through my shoulder as the seat belt locked across my chest. “Stop!” The word ripped out of me even though they couldn’t hear it.

The road ahead curved sharply. I was going too fast. I pressed the brake, but the car behind me hit the back bumper at the same moment. The steering wheel twisted violently beneath my hand, the tires lost their grip, and the world seemed to slow.

My eyes saw headlights, the dark road, a flash of trees, then everything spun. The car left the road and dropped hard onto the grass verge. My head snapped forwards as the airbag exploded from the steering wheel. White powder filled the air, choking me as the car jolted to a stop.

Silence crashed down around me. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. My chest burned where the seat belt had caught me, and warm liquid slid slowly from my hairline down the side of my face. I stared through the cracked windscreen.

The other car had stopped on the road, its red brake lights glowing through the darkness. They were coming back.

A sob caught in my throat. I fumbled for the seat-belt release, but my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. My entire body shook so violently that I couldn’t make them grip the button. “Please,” I whispered.

The brake lights remained there, waiting, watching. I could feel their eyes on me. I looked around desperately for my phone, but the passenger footwell was buried beneath broken glass and the collapsed remains of the airbag.

The lights moved and I thought the car was reversing toward me. But it sped away and the red glow vanished around the bend.

I sat frozen, waiting for it to return. When it didn’t, the panic holding me together cracked apart. A broken sound escaped me, half sob and half gasp. I was alive. I didn’t know how, but I was alive. I fought with the seat belt until it finally released, then reached beneath the passenger seat with trembling fingers. Broken glass bit into my palm, but I barely felt it. My hand closed around the phone, the screen cracked but still lit.

Riot’s name sat near the top of my recent calls. I pressed it, and he answered before the first ring finished.

“Maria?”

Hearing his voice destroyed the last of my control. “Riot.” I broke into a sob.

“What happened?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” My breaths came too quickly to form proper words.

“Maria, slow down. Where are you?”

“Somebody followed me.”

“What?”

“They hit the car. They kept hitting me, and I—I went off the road.”