Page 9 of Rear View

Ryah

It’d been three days since Xavier and the hospital. Since my faceless stalker had texted as I sat, surrounded by everyone in my hospital bed, trying to control the rising panic his voicemail had induced while his words tracked in my head on repeat.

Unknown: Where are you, Ryah Jane? Where arrrrre you?

He knew. He always knew. Knew where I was, when I was there and when I wasn’t. I’d been away for one day. One. Damn. Day. And he’d noticed. Just needed to remind me. Needed to keep me in my place; keep me scared. If I could just figure out who he was…

My heart pounded in my ears as I stared at my email to Officer Maynard, my finger trembling where it hovered over the send button.

I’d typed the message hours ago. Had attached the voice file, but like my call just days before, I didn’t know why I’d bother.

I was so sick of being dismissed. Sick of living that way. Sick of feeling alone.

The time since my accident had been spent in bed or exactly where I was, curled up on the couch in Z’s and my living room while I stared at our thirty-two-inch, hand-me-down TV watching rom-coms on repeat. Anything to feel better…or distract me.

Sunlight streamed through the window to my left, spotlighting the disaster zone before me.

My breakfast dishes littered the chipped oak coffee table, my housecoat and socks were piled on the parquet floor.

I’d barely moved, seeing as the bruises along my ribs felt as crappy as they looked, but I had improved.

At least it didn’t hurt to breathe anymore. Or talk. Or exist.

My gaze flicked to my laptop again, to the tape over the camera there because I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Just click send, Ryah. Just. Click. Send.

“Just click send,” Zoya scolded from the kitchen where she was making a sandwich under the obnoxiously bright fluorescent light. “Stand tall, girl.”

Stand tall. I held my breath, then tapped the button. The whoosh sound when it vanished into the internet ether filled my laptop’s speakers. My shoulders sagged.

An email landed in my inbox, and I jolted. When I saw Professor Barlowe’s name, I closed the page. He’d been filled in on my situation already and I did not have the emotional bandwidth for him, so he was gonna need to wait.

Zoya dropped down beside me, breadcrumbs sloughing onto her hoodie while the couch squeaked under her. The thing had seen better days. It was clean, but the spring poking my hip did nothing for my comfort. I shifted to the left, giving her a clear view of my screen.

Her eyes went wide. “What’s this?”

I bit my lip and laughed. “Owwwww,” I howled, holding my ribs as a sharp pain shot through them.

Zoya’s face twisted. “That looked like it hurt.”

I mock scowled. “Because it did.”

She fluttered her lashes. “I think there might be a rally car driver out there who’d be willing to put you back together.”

My face heated.

She tipped her head toward my laptop, where browser after browser about rally racing stood open.

It wasn’t like NASCAR or Formula One. They all drove at speeds I couldn’t even fathom, but rally had obstacles.

Cars careened through tracks and forests, and cities.

Over snow, sand and gravel. It was fast and wild and… oh my God .

Reaching over, she clicked play on a video.

The camera panned, following Xavier’s car as it flew along a gravel road, hit a small incline, then went airborne for at least sixty feet.

The engine blared a high-pitched cracking rumble, a dust cloud kicking high behind him when he landed.

The angle cut to inside the car, jumping between his face and the vehicle’s body.

Alec flipped a page on the pad he held. “Two long left, three hundred, into four right sharp.”

“What’s that mean?” Zoya asked.

I lifted a shoulder, because I had not one clue.

Xavier’s arctic eyes were focused and fixed straight ahead.

And those eyes, sweet lord, they did things to me.

His two feet worked the pedals while his right hand snapped the shifter forward when he cut the wheel, taking them through a turn.

Rocks and dirt flew as they drifted through the corner.

When they hit the straightaway, his speed climbed fast. 180 KPH. 185. 190.

God, it was sexy on another level, but I still couldn’t help it when my stomach twisted.

Clicking pause, I turned to Z. “So, um, Xavier is nuts,” I said, rubbing the scar across my brow before I closed the laptop and set it aside.

“I bet it’s the fun kind that translates between the sheets.” Her brows danced and she nudged my hip. “You should definitely call him!”

I wanted to. Had stared at his number a thousand times since he’d given it to me. My gaze flicked to where it sat on the coffee table. “What if he was just being nice?”

“Girl, he gave you his number .”

“To help.”

“I know you don’t get out much, so I’ll fill you in. The man wants you to call.” She plucked the receipt with his number up and dangled it in front of me. “Your window is closing, Ry. You’ve only got so long before he takes the ‘L’ and gives up.”

My eyes narrowed. “Takes the ‘L’?”

She smacked a hand over her face. “The loss, girl. Before he takes the loss. You really do need to get out more.”

My mouth pursed. “You know why I don’t.”

Z let loose a long sigh. Shuffling closer, she draped an arm around my shoulder. “I know. But maybe this is your chance to try. Live again.”

“What about Christian?”

She frowned deeply. “What about him?” She set her sandwich on the plate in her lap. “I love you, Ry. But the guy bailed just after your stalker came on the scene. If you were actually a priority to him, then he’d have prioritized you.”

My heart constricted.

“You choose Christian because he’s around and easy.

He’s an excuse to stay put. To stay home.

” She tucked my hair behind my ear, and snuggled in.

“Xavier’s hot as hell, and the guy dropped everything to make sure you were alright.

He was into you. Like really, really into you.

Maybe try choosing someone who chooses you for once. ”

He was hot. And sweet, and, yeah, he’d helped and flirted and kept that skeezy doctor at bay, but what if that’s all it was? Maybe he was just a good guy to everyone. “What if it doesn’t work?”

She extended a finger and pushed my shoulder. “But what if it does?”

“My life’s not that simple.” Not even close.

“Don’t let him take this from you.” She flicked a hand, gesturing to the apartment as a whole. “You can’t live like this forever. Maybe if the asshole sees you’re with someone else, he’ll back off.”

I wanted that. God , I wanted it, but still… “My life’s a mess, Zoya.”

“It’s not your mess, babe. You didn’t make it. So, stop living in it.” Unfolding my fingers, she placed the receipt in my palm. “You deserve more.”

I bit my lip, staring at that crinkled paper and Xavier’s nearly illegible, very guy-like scrawl.

My stomach rolled. I wasn’t afraid of him.

Couldn’t explain why, other than a feeling.

His icy eyes had cut through my carefully crafted barriers, and I’d liked it.

It’d been nice to be seen. For the first time in forever, I’d actually forgotten everything. Including Christian, and him .

Maybe Zoya was right. Maybe it was time. I wasn’t about to drag Xavier into my mess, but I could find workarounds. At the very least, I could try.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my phone.