Chapter 29

Chapter 29
Amelia's breath came in ragged gasps, her hands shaking as she stared at the empty road where the power bike had disappeared just an instant ago. Her mind was racing to catch up with what had just happened.

She had taken a step forward one instant, and the next, there had been a black flash that had nearly killed her. She promised herself that she had seen her whole life flash before her eyes in the moment—memories of childhood, nights lying awake debating with friends, dreams that she had not yet fulfilled.

Her knees buckled beneath her, and she sucked a harsh breath, reminding herself to breathe. The sidewalk outside of her continued as if nothing had happened.

Passersby walked by, engrossed in their own worlds, and cars idled patiently for the light to change. No one had stopped. No one had screamed. To them, it was just another reckless motorcyclist speeding through the city.

Amelia let out a shuddering sigh, placing a hand on her chest. "Holy hell," she breathed.

A middle-aged woman walking by shot her a sidelong glance, but Amelia didn't see her. She didn't have time to be standing there choking on fear. She was alive. That was all that mattered.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her out of her daze. She fought to pull it out and see a message from her co-worker, Lila.

Lila: Where are you? Boss is already in.

"Shit," Amelia cursed. She was already late, and now she was here standing like a ghost had passed through her.

Brushing aside the fear that still clung to her, she hurried across the street, legs still shaky but with greater speed. The office building was only a few blocks away. She just had to get there before she caused trouble.

Her thoughts kept going back to the bike. The way it had appeared out of nowhere. The speed it was going when it came towards her. The path of its turn. It hadn't been an accident—she was sure now. That motorcycle driver had glanced her way. And in the last instant, they veered.

Why?

She tossed her head forward, shaking the distraction out of it. Not the time, Amelia. Work.


Amelia strained to focus as she settled into her chair, but her hand trembled slightly as she picked up the mouse. The glow of the computer screen caught on her face, but her thoughts were consumed by the near miss earlier. The sharp turn, the glint of black, the motorcyclist veering at the last instant—it wasn't an accident. It was intentional. But why?

She shook her head and took slow breaths, forcing herself to focus on the screen. Work comes first. She could figure out the mystery afterwards.

Her inbox was barraged with emails, and she processed them on autopilot. Two minutes passed, and Lila dropped into the chair beside her desk, angling it somewhat so she was looking at Amelia. Her face was optimistic, arms crossed.

Although they are not what you will classify as friends, they gist and chat a lot.

"Are you really not going to tell me what happened?" she asked, voice low but firm.

Amelia let out a deep breath, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. The hum of keyboards and muffled conversation filled the room, everyone hunched over their own task. She inched forward. "It's absurd," she said quietly. "But I almost got run over by a power bike coming here. It just came out of nowhere. It was right on top of me, Lila—I could feel the breeze as it passed me."

Lila's eyebrows knit together. "Jesus. Are you alright?"

"I think so," Amelia replied, although the pain was still stuck in her chest. "It was weird, though. The biker did notice me, I swear. They could have hit me, but they swerved at the last second."

Lila tilted her head to the side, considering this. "You think they were trying to intimidate you?"

"I don't know," Amelia admitted, shivering her arms as if to shake the shiver up her spine. "But it didn't look like an accident."

Lila scowled. "You should report it."

"To who? The police?" Amelia scoffed. "I don't have a plate number. I just saw a glimpse of the biker. Just a blur of black."

"Still," Lila said, not believing her. "It's not normal."

Amelia dry-laughed. "Tell me about it."

Before Lila could say another word, a voice interrupted. "Amelia, my office."

Amelia's head snapped up. Her boss, Mr. Harper, stood in the doorway, his expression neutral. Wonderful. Just what she needed.

Lila gave her a sympathetic glance before Amelia grabbed a notebook and followed Mr. Harper into his office. The moment the door closed behind her, he motioned her toward a chair.

“You’re cutting it close with your timing,” he said, taking a seat behind his desk. “Again.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Amelia said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. “I had—”

“I don’t want excuses,” Harper interrupted, holding up a hand. “I need reliability, Amelia.”

Amelia swallowed hard, nodding. “It won’t happen again.”

He studied her for a moment, then sighed. “See that it doesn’t.”

The session was conducted in under five minutes, but the weight of it lingered behind. She exited Harper's office and went back to her own, massaging her temples. She did not wish to be on his bad side.

She pushed herself to drive the morning's events out of her mind and get on with business, but occasionally a thought would wander back to that biker. The way they'd moved, the sharp control—it wasn't one of those wild street racers. They had skill. Experience.

And that frightened her more than she'd like to acknowledge.

\---

By the time lunch, she had already talked herself out of panicking. Maybe it was just a close call. There were reckless drivers on every corner of this city; chances were she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She unzipped her bag and stood up, stretching slightly before glancing at Lila. "Lunch?"

Lila nodded, shutting down her laptop. "Please, I have to get out here for a bit."

They headed to their usual spot—a small café a few blocks away. As they walked, Amelia kept glancing over her shoulder, her nerves still on edge. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous.

The café was busy, but they managed to grab a corner table. Lila studied her as they waited for their food. “You’re still thinking about it. I'm sure.