Page 92

"You don't look fine."
"Well, I am. Are you ready to go?"
"Absolutely," she said, eager to leave. She needed sunshine and air and distance from this place. She didn't know how her mother was ever going to come back here to work. She would never be able to forget what had happened.
They walked in silence back to the car. As they fastened their seat belts, she said, "What are you thinking about?"
"Everything."
"It was weird that Layana was there."
"Was it? She's an artist at a museum—not that weird."
"I guess not, but her lover died there a few days ago."
"Maybe that's why she came."
"It was also strange that Arthur set up the event that led to his death. That's ironic, isn't it? It almost makes me wonder if Gerard had some part in this. It seems like getting the show to happen could have been part of someone's evil, twisted plan. Plus, Victoria mentions your father again, after a conversation with Gerard. Doesn't it seem like they want you to start looking at your dad?"
"It does," he murmured, glancing over at her. "There's a lot to consider."
"There definitely is," she agreed.
He started the car and pulled out of the lot. They made their way toward the steep, curving road that would take them down to the freeway. They had only made their way around the first curve when the roar of an engine behind them startled her. She turned around in her seat as Flynn checked the rearview mirror.
There was a dark-green museum van bearing down upon them at a ridiculously high rate of speed.
Flynn swore as he sped up.
Callie grabbed the armrest, fear running through her. They were on a narrow winding road with steep drops on her side of the car. Only a small rail provided a buffer from the canyon.
"Hang on," Flynn said tersely as he maneuvered the car around a tight curve.
"Is he trying to run us off the road?" she yelled in panic.
Flynn didn't answer, and she didn't need him to. It was very clear what was happening. She said a silent prayer as the van bumped them from behind, and they bounced off the guard rail. Her heart was beating so hard and fast it was all she could hear besides the deadly screech of tires.
Chapter Twenty
The van hit them again.Callie bounced forward, the seat belt preventing her from hitting the dashboard, but just barely. Her breath froze in her chest as she saw another narrow turn coming up. If they didn't make the curve, they would fly right off the side of the road.
Flynn increased their speed. She squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating the car crashing through the rail, flying down the hill, turning over and over. It was so real she could see it in her head, but Flynn wasn't going out without a fight. He took the next turn on two wheels, almost throwing her into him.
Her eyes jerked open just in time to see them clear the last curve, and then it was a straight shot to the exit. Once they passed through the gates, they turned right on the frontage road. The van turned left, going in the other direction.
"We made it," Flynn said, a triumphant light in his eyes.
"I don't know how," she said in amazement, as he drove onto the freeway, taking them back down to a reasonable rate of speed. Her heart was beating so fast, she was still gasping for breath.
"Take it easy," he said. "Slow, deep breaths."
"I—I don't know if I can."
"You can do it, Callie. Breathe in—hold—breathe out."
For the next few minutes, he talked her through her breathing. Finally, her heart began to slow down.
"I'm okay now. I don't know how you can be so calm or how you can drive so well."