Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Rearview Mirror
Clara scrambled into the driver’s seat of her sedan, tossing her purse onto the passenger floorboard while frantically pulling the door shut. She jammed the key into the ignition, her hands shaking so badly that the metal scraped loudly against the steering column before finally catching. Through the dust-streaked windshield, she watched Jax mount his heavy motorcycle, the deep, rumbling roar of the engine vibrating through the chassis of her own car.
Lily pressed her face against the side window, her small hand leaving a smudge on the glass. "Bye-bye, bear man!" she called out, though the windows were rolled up tight.
Clara threw the car into reverse, checking her rearview mirror with anxious, darting eyes. Jax was already pulling out of the gas station lot, heading north toward the winding mountain passes. But as he merged onto the asphalt ribbon of the highway, he didn't accelerate away. He lingered, maintaining a deliberate distance, pacing her car as she pulled out behind him. A sick feeling churned in Clara’s stomach. She tapped her brakes, hoping he would pass, but the motorcycle slowed right along with her, staying anchored stubbornly in her blind spot.
She pressed her foot down on the gas, pushing the sedan up to sixty miles per hour, but the dark silhouette of the biker remained locked in her mirror, a constant, menacing reminder of the past she had tried so hard to bury. Her mind raced back three years, to the rainy night she had fled this very region with an infant in her arms, hiding from a ghost she thought she had outrun.
The road narrowed as it wound deeper into the dense pine forests of the valley. Cell service flickered and died on the dashboard display, the navigation map dissolving into a blank grid. Clara’s breathing grew shallow. She glanced over at Lily, who had thankfully fallen fast asleep in the passenger seat, her head resting against the seatbelt strap, breathing softly and oblivious to the growing danger outside.
Ahead of them, the brake lights of Jax’s motorcycle suddenly flared a blinding red in the dim twilight filtering through the towering evergreens. He was pulling off onto the shoulder, blocking the narrow two-lane road entirely, forcing Clara to either stop or drive off the steep embankment into the ravine below.
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Clara slammed on her brakes, the tires skidding across the loose gravel before coming to a jarring halt just feet from the rear tire of the motorcycle. Jax cut his engine. Silence swallowed the forest, broken only by the ticking of her cooling car engine. The biker dismounted slowly, pulling off his leather helmet and walking directly toward her driver’s side door.
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