The Revenge Game (Book) by Bosher Cole

Author:Bosher, Cole [Bosher, Cole]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: The Nassau Street Group, Ltd.
Published: 2013-04-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Greg brought his restored Mercedes-Benz to a stop on South Middlebush Road. He tossed a cigarette out of the window, lit another one, and smoked it furiously. The thought of Brandon washed through Greg’s mind. They’d never been especially close, but had Greg known that Brandon was interested in Wes, he would have played things differently. But Greg had slept with Rick and convinced him to break-up with Wes. The only flaw in Greg’s plan was that he gave Brandon an easy opening to Wes, and Brandon took it. Greg pounded his fist against the steering wheel. He may have fucked this up, but he knew how to fix it.

He pressed on the gas and began driving down the dark, narrow road. Greg leaned down to change the radio station when a pair of blinding headlights appeared behind him. Greg shot up with a jolt. He held his hands in front of his eyes while he re-adjusted the rear view mirror. “What the fuck,” he growled. As Greg sped up the car continued to follow him.

Greg pressed down on the gas. He had to get away. It didn’t matter. The black car kept its bright headlights on and didn’t relent in its pursuit of Greg. His heart began to beat faster. He glanced into the rear view mirror, but he couldn’t make out the driver’s face. It was as if the car was driving itself and it was intent on getting him.

Greg made a sharp left turn. He gunned the car down Bennett’s Lane without a care in the world. His eyes remained transfixed on the rear view mirror, but the other car was on his tail. Greg’s palms began to sweat when the car roared behind him. The sound of the engine prompted Greg to drive faster, but it was useless.

Bang!

Bang!

Greg lurched forward as his car skidded off the road. He held his breath as the car slipped along a patch of wet grass. His blood raced through his veins. The face of death flashed before Greg’s eyes. He reached for the emergency break and pulled it up. Greg’s Mercedes-Benz came to a dramatic halt a few feet away from a row of oak trees. He leapt out of the car and screamed into the cool night air. Greg raced to the road, but it was empty. His heart continued to beat out of his chest with such force that Greg thought he was going to vomit. He dropped his head between his knees. What’s going on, he wondered furiously. Shaken, Greg climbed into his car, eased back to Bennett’s Lane, and made his way home.

He parked his car in front of his townhouse just before two o’clock in the morning. Greg ran his hands through his hair. Whoever was driving that car was after me, Greg told himself over and over again. He stepped out of the car and tried to clear his mind. Nearly all of the lights on Roper Drive were off, which made Greg feel more anxious.

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