Page 8 of Wild Card

“Something like that…”

“Scarlett. No way. Especially not when you’ve been drinking. Something could happen to you! Why didn’t you walk with the driver? Or better yet just tell me you needed a ride!”

“Because being trapped out in the cold rain with him if things got weird seemed worse than being alone in the warm dry car.” I realize now that my plan sounds a bit nuts.

“No. We’re coming to get you.”

“No. Harper! You don’t need to drive all the way out here. You’re in the city and you’re within walking distance from home. Don’t be silly. You’ve done enough rescuing for one night. I’ll just call a car or something. I just wanted someone to know where I am in case.”

“No, no more strangers. Just send me a pin and we’ll be right there.”

“Harper—”

“Don’t argue with me. I’m serious.”

“Fine.”

“Love you and be careful!”

“Love you. And thank you.”

Bright lights beamthrough the back window less than half an hour later. I lean forward to try to get a peek at it. Whatever it is, it’s fancy as fuck which makes me think it’s Xander and Harper, and not a serial killer. But then you never know. Honestly, at this point, I think I might be ready to take my chances. The door opens and a tall figure steps out just as I start to open the door and get out, the rain battering my face as I do it.

But when I look closer, the figure is definitely not Xander, and there’s no Harper on the passenger side. I reach back for the door handle, but it’s locked behind me. Fucking automatic locks, or maybe I hit it on accident. Whatever the case, panic is welling in my chest. The figure comes closer, and I hold out my hand to stop them.

“Stay away! Just stay there. I don’t need help. I have a friend coming any minute.”

The man answers but it’s unintelligible because of the rain, and I take two steps backward, bumping into the car mirror in a way I know is going to leave a bruise on my shoulder blade tomorrow. If I make it until then.

“Stay away!” I scream, but they keep coming.

So I do the only thing I know how. I run through the wet grass on the side of the road screaming for help.

I don’t make it far. My foot catches on a rock and I stumble, tripping forward and desperately trying to regain my balance. Apparently, thirty is as far as I’m going to make it, and I’m going out like this—murdered face down in a muddy ditch on the side of the road. I start to scream one last time, just as arms wrap around my waist and pull me back up. A hand slams over my mouth half a second later.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Scarlett. I know you’re fucking drunk but calm the fuck down!” If the booming voice doesn’t let me know who it is, the scent of his cologne is a dead giveaway.

I turn around, ripping out of his grip, and shove him back with my hands.

“What the fuck, Tobias? Why didn’t you say it was you?”

“I said it was me, twice!”

“Too quietly! I couldn’t hear you over the rain! I thought you were a murderer. You were supposed to be Xander and Harper. Where are they?”

“I told them I’d come to get you so they didn’t have to go out.”

“Jesus. She and I are going to have a fucking talk. Like I need you rescuing me twice today.”

“That’s fucking funny. That didn’t sound like a thank you.”

I glare at him, and he just silently raises his eyebrow in return.

“We just gonna stand out here in the rain then because you’re too stubborn to say thank you?”

“I am not too stubborn, and I always say thank you.”

“And yet…”