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“What’s our destination, Mr. Gunner?” asked the pilot, as he settled into the seat next to me.
“I’m not sure.”
He looked at me, confused.
“I need you to follow this map.” I held up my phone and showed him the tracking on screen. “Can you do that?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
He put on his own seatbelt and opened the throttle, and the rotors above us whirred faster as he lifted the helicopter up from the runway with ease. We were soon above the river and making our way to the interstate. I could see that Monica was miles and miles ahead of us, but traveling by air would close the distance quickly.
As the miles between us became fewer, I could still see that they were moving quickly. Too quickly for a cab driver to allow. Veronica must be driving. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the image of her little red sports car smashed into another car of the interstate wall, with Monica inside. The thought made my stomach lurch. I had to get to her before Veronica did something truly stupid.
Soon I could see from my phone that we were practically on top of the red dot I had been following on my screen. I looked out the window and down at the interstate. My eyes darted from car to car until it landed on the bright red one I was looking for. I sucked in a breath.
“There!” I shouted, pointing at it.
“What do you want me to do?” asked the pilot, unsurely.
I didn’t have an answer for him. Now that we were here, and so close, I had no idea what to do. No idea how to stop Veronica. I was still helpless, but now I was hundreds of feet in the air.
Veronica had to be nearing 100 MPH, weaving in and out of what little traffic there was. Her movements were haphazard and reckless. I wanted to close my eyes to avoid seeing every near fateful collision that made my heart stop, but I kept my eyes on the car, willing her to slow down.
That was when I saw the flash of red and blue. Then several flashes. I blinked a few times to make sure I was seeing correctly, but there they were. At least a dozen squad cars speeding down the interstate in pursuit of Veronica’s red sports car. They had come.
I let myself feel a slight reprieve, until I saw Veronica pick up even more speed. She was approaching a speed that would be difficult to control. She must have seen the cops in her rear-view mirror, must have heard the sirens. She didn’t care that they were after her. She wasn’t stopping. I could only imagine what Monica was feeling being trapped inside the car, and I couldn’t do anything.
“Shit!” I yelled frustratedly, banging my hand against the top of the control board.
“Are we a part of a police chase, Mr. Gunner?” asked the pilot, not tearing his eyes away from the scene below as more squad cars joined the pursuit.
“I’ll pay you triple,” I muttered into my headset.
Had I put Monica in more danger by calling the police? Clearly, their pursuit wasn’t stopping Veronica. Maybe this was what she wanted. A big show. Her grand finale. Something to grab my attention. To grab everyone’s attention.
That was all she ever wanted in life, to be the center of attention. All eyes on her, whether at a party in a slinky dress or half naked on the cover ofSports Illustrated. She lived for the attention. That was why she married me. To be on the arm of one of New York’s youngest billionaires as the cameras flashed and the interviews came rolling in about our whirlwind romance. She ate it all up, and then I ended the show, the façade, and she hated me for it.
That was why she had been so desperate to weasel her way back into my life, whether it be through my own mother or by cleverly getting me drunk on expensive bourbon and letting a thin strap of her dress fall. I was weak, and even after our divorce, I let her in my life. In my bed. I had selfishly taken advantage of the times she had thrown herself at me so I could find some fleeting pleasure in my boring life. She was a familiar reprieve.
I didn’t know it was anything other than that, or that her feelings were stronger than just a fling. I should have known better. Should have seen the quiet, desperate look in her eyes when we said goodbye or when I walked into a family party and saw her standing there. She still loved me. And now, because of it, I had risked the life of the woman I loved.
I knew love could drive you to do some insane things, but I never knew what Veronica was capable of, or what lengths she would go to. She had always been kind of crazy. In a way, it was what drew me to her. She was the supermodel party girl who drank too much champagne and danced on tables or leaned off balconies at parties, knowing someone would pull her to safety, shaking their heads with a little laugh and a “Oh, that’s Veronica.”
But this was different. This was truly a scary version of her I had never seen before. I didn’t know how to stopthisVeronica.
Chapter 51
Monica
As we continued down the interstate, the car approaching a speed I had never seen in my life, I looked over at Veronica for any sign of fear. There was none to be found. Her hands were firm on the wheel, no shakiness to be seen. Her face was set like stone and her eyes were straight ahead on the road. Veronica’s mouth was tight, her lips pressed in a straight line that could either be mistaken for a frown or a smile. I shuddered slightly.
She looked like she could be a villain straight out of a movie or described in the pages of a book. I felt like I was a character in a thriller, but I didn’t know how it was going to end. I wished I could turn the pages to see my fate, but the author hadn’t finished writing their story yet. If I ever got out of this, I would have my own story to write. It was a cruel thought, given the severity of my situation.
We had been driving like this for at least an hour now and my hands had finally eased from the handle on the car door, as if I somehow had gotten used to the speed and the possibility of my life ending. The mile markers passed by in a blurry flash, along with the large green overhead signs I couldn’t make out. I could only assume we were heading toward Pennsylvania, but I really didn’t think that was the destination Veronica had in mind.
The end was what she had in mind. Whether it be me or the both of us, I didn’t think it mattered to her based on the crazed look in her eye. She was so obsessed with Troy that she didn’t care if she died, just so long as I went with her. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being with anyone else. It was the scary truth that occurred to me a few miles back, making my heart sink to the floor of my stomach, settling there like a rock.
I was never going to see Troy again. The sly smile that crossed his lips or the unruly dark hair that fell perfectly imperfect across his forehead. I was never going to feel his lips against me or his fingers interlaced with mine. Never going to hear the way he said my name, soft and sweet or gruff in a passionate moment. I would never know the life we wanted to start, the one we had been dreaming of when nothing was holding us back anymore. We had been so close, and now it was being ripped away from us. My life was being ripped away.