‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘Oh!’ I’m suddenly thrust forward in my seat and my seatbelt locks, pulling straight across my collarbone and burning the skin beneath my dress.
‘Ava?’ John’s voice is distant and muffled, and I can’t work out why. ‘Ava, girl!’
‘John?’ I feel around on my lap, but there’s nothing. ‘John!’
Bang!
I’m jolted forward again, my arms instinctively locking on the wheel and sending a sharp flash of pain straight up to my shoulders. ‘Shit!’ I look in the rear view mirror and freeze when I see the DBS now directly behind me, but it’s quite a way back. ‘John?’ I yell. ‘John, can you hear me?’ My eyes are moving constantly from the road ahead to the mirror, back and forth, and each time they’re back on the mirror, Jesse’s car is closer. I attempt to step on the accelerator, but all body functions are failing me, except my eyes which are watching in horror as the DBS gains on me.
Bang!
‘No!’ I cry, as I swerve and struggle to regain control on my Mini. I don’t stand a chance. My brain is being inundated by a million different orders, but I can’t gather any cognitive thought to establish my best move. I straighten up my car to be immediately hit again. Now I’m crying. My emotions are taking hold, telling me that I should be crying, that I should be frightened. And I am. I’m terrified.
Crash!
This time I lose complete control. I scream as the wheel starts spinning of its own accord, and I’m suddenly travelling sideways down the carriage way. Then I’m hit again and facing forward once more. I frantically grapple with the steering wheel, but it’s got a mind of its own and in a total panic, I yank at the handbrake. I’m not sure what happens next, but I’m thrown forward and back again, and I’m dizzy, blurred images whirling past the windows. Buildings, people and cars are all spinning around me until eventually a loud crash rings through my ears, my body jolts violently and my eyes close. I don’t know where I am. But I’m still. I’m not moving anymore.
I flex my neck on a groan and open my eyes to look out of the window. The traffic has stopped. All of it. People are getting out of their cars and wandering over to me. I shuffle my legs and move my arms, quickly noting that I have feeling in all of them, before I unclip my belt and let myself out of my car. People are walking towards me, but I’m walking away. I’m walking towards the DBS, which is sitting a few yards away, the engine still purring. I should be running in the other direction, but I’m not. I’m running towards it. The desperate need to know who would do this has suddenly flattened my fear. Date rape, threats, and now this? What planet if this person on? The accumulation of incidents is now hitting me hard.
I’m only a few yards away when the engine starts revving, like some sort of eerie f**ked up threat. It doesn’t stop me. What does, though, is the sound of a high powered machine getting louder and louder. I halt and stand rooted to the spot as I watch the DBS screech off, and then John’s Range Rover go sailing past in pursuit. This isn’t happening to me. I want to pinch myself, slap myself across the face, or, at the very least, wake up. I slowly turn when it sounds like one of Jesse’s superbikes is speeding around in my head. He skids to a stop and throws his bike down before sprinting towards me, no leathers, no helmet, just some faded jeans and a plain black t-shirt protecting his body—the clothes that he yanked from the wardrobe before he walked out on me. I can’t move. All I can do is wait where I am for him to reach me, and he soon does, his hands starting to work fast strokes all over my stunned face as I stare blankly into his green eyes, which are drowned in pure terror.
‘Ava? Jesus, baby.’ I’m pulled into his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other wrapped around my waist to hold me tight. I want to hold him back, I need to hold him back, but nothing is happening when I tell it to happen. I hear Jesse’s phone ringing and he releases my head to fish around in his pocket. ‘John?’
Being buried under Jesse’s chin, I can hear the low rumble of John’s pissed off voice, and I distinctly hear him asking why the f**k he has to own such a stupidly fast mother f**king car.
‘Where are you?’ Jesse asks, kissing my head between words.
This time I can’t hear him. All I can hear are sirens—coming from every direction are sirens. I pull out of Jesse’s chest and find a mass of police cars and two ambulances. Just for me? But then I notice a crumple heap of a car, and it’s not mine. Neither is the one wrapped around a lamppost nearby. I search through the chaos of people and abandoned cars and spot my Mini crunched up against some railings that are separating the road from the pavement. I shudder.
‘John, don’t stop until you’ve found out who’s in my f**king car.’ Jesse hangs up and stuffs his phone back in his pocket. He pulls at my chin. ‘Look at me, baby.’