Page 240 of Hate to Love You

…Who is limp in his arms.

“You need to drive Abigail!” Roman thunders as he races toward the car.

He throws open the back door, gently getting into the car, and cradling a whimpering Caesar.

Hearing this, my body instantly unfreezes, running round the hood of the car, I jump into the driver’s seat, and freeze as I stare at the stick shift.

“Put your fucking foot down and drive, Foxy!”

“I—”

His hand slams into the back of the chair, jolting me forward.

“Foxy!”

“Okay okay!”

It’s been years since I’ve driven a car. My hands tremble as the engine purrs to life, the wheel slick and smooth under my hands. I take a deep breath and throw the stick into drive. The car roars to life and jumps underneath my hands, bunny hopping down the road.

“Abigail?”

“It’s been a few years and I…” I say, feeling my heart pounding and sinking at the same time. “You said you were going to teach me!”

My chest tightens as Caesar whimpers behind me, a sound that pierces straight through my heart and squeezes.

“Relax, Baby, you got this! Just ease your foot up… there we go, keep doing that. Just drive! And if a light turns red, fuck it, just go straight through it!” He commands, and I feel myself come alive with the order.

Somehow, he always knows how to settle me, even though I can feel his heart shattering from the front seat.

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy,” Roman mutters.

Glancing at him in the mirror I watch as he slowly strokes Caesar’s face.

Caesar whimpers, forcing me to blink rapidly to stop the tears from escaping.

To the best of my ability, I race toward the animal hospital as Roman barks directions at me in the back seat.

“Turn right!”

“Turn left!”

“Go! Now! Floor it!”

Cars honk at me as I weave through the traffic, fighting to get the stick into the next gear, under Roman’s instructions.

My stomach drops as I watch a light turn from green to red.

“Run that light!” He commands.

Slamming my foot down on the accelerator, I fight the desire to close my eyes as I fly through the light at nearly a hundred miles an hour.

As I skid to a stop outside the animal hospital, Roman is already out of the car and running before I can even throw it in park.

“Help! I need help!” Roman screams as he shoulders his way in through the door.

I take a deep breath, slumping down in the seat as I let my head thump against the headrest. My eyes catch movement in the rearview mirror of a black Range Rover.

A Range Rover that has wheel rims exactly like—