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show white. Beneath my palms, sweat gathered. My heart pounded. The road
ahead of me curved on a down-facing slope and while I frantically pumped the
faulty pedal, my car gained momentum and the trees whizzed by. The speedometer
crept from seventy to eighty.
    Wonderful. Amazing. This was the single best day of my
entire life!
    I released my right hand from its death grip on the wheel
and clutched the automatic gear shifter instead. Sweat beaded beneath my thick
wool coat. My heart beat hard enough that I thought I might be going into
cardiac arrest.
    I pressed the button and downshifted from drive to third
gear. A horrible noise filled the car as gears ground against each other and I
winced. The sharp, chemical scent of burnt rubber filled the car. I down
shifted again, this time going from three to two—flying by two other
vehicles—as the car shook and slowed a little more. I kept down shifting until
I had the car in first gear and made my way to the shoulder of the road.
    I blew out a breath, took hold of the emergency break and
lifted slowly. Through the rear-view mirror smoke, dirt and debris billowed
from the rear brakes. My car slowed to a rocky stop on the side of the highway.
    Stunned, I placed both damp hands on the wheel and stared
blindly out the window. The only noises were my pounding heart and the other
cars blurring past me on the highway. Then I heard something else. A buzzing.
My cell.
    The darkness and isolation closed around me. I lifted a
shaky hand to flick on the overhead lights. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Almost as if I
was in a trance, I reached into my purse, grabbed my phone and answered it.
    I swallowed. “Hello.”
    “Car trouble, Ms. Grey?” Mr. Restricted’s voice was as low
and as creepy as I remembered.
    My blood chilled instantly and all the sweat clinging to my
skin froze. Was I being watched?
    “What do you want?” I asked and searched the darkness for
another parked car or a lone person walking through the trees surrounding the
highway. The beams of my headlights showed nothing but particles of dust in the
lights. I hit the button to lock the doors. The click didn’t reassure me.
    “Everything,” he purred.
    “Stop calling me,” I growled.
    A rolling chuckle sounded through the line and made me sick
to my stomach. “You see, I can’t do that. I see you, Hannah. I smell you—feel
you. Soon you’ll feel me too. The heels were a nice touch. Black is a beautiful
color on you.” He moaned. “The second you slid your pink little panties down
your legs my cock got hard. Watching you crawl across the bed, it was like you
knew I was watching, stroking, seconds away from com—”
    I hit the end button in the middle of his sentence. Holy
fuck. I was going to throw up. This pervert had been, probably still was,
watching me. A screeching noise, like nails on metal, drew my attention to the
passenger side of the car. I stared through the dark and saw nothing. While my
head was turned, something or someone, tapped on my side window and I screamed,
leaping a good foot in the air.
    Skin ice-cold, heart hammering, brain supplying images of
Lizbeth and her electric-blue eyes filled with sadistic pleasure, I turned to
look out the window without wanting to. Through the bloody, dripping heart now
painted on the glass, the silhouette of a man in a long trench coat sauntered
down the road. Then vanished.
    I could hardly navigate my phone through my shaking hands.
    “It’s about time you called me back!” My sister’s voice
washed over me and the fear and adrenaline clashed together. She let out an
amused snort. “I cannot believe you punched Julian in the face. So awesome.”
    I clutched my phone tighter, afraid it would slip from my
clammy, trembling fingers. “I’m in trouble.”
    Her tone sobered. “Where are you?”
    “I-I-don’t know. On the side of the road. My brakes stopped
working, and—”
    “Holy shit, Hannah, are you okay? Did you crash?”
    “No. I got it stopped, but he’s