Crises in Love (Zora and Jaylan) novel Chapter 432

Our car shot out like a bullet, leaving the jeep behind. But in no time at all, the jeep was on our tail again. Hannah floored the gas, and the two vehicles tore down the road in a mad dash, one chasing the other like a scene straight out of an action film.

I could still hear Logan's voice on the phone, "...location, give me your approximate location..."

Glancing outside, I finally realized we were speeding down Seabreeze Boulevard, the coastal road that led to the club we had just left. Below us was the endless expanse of the ocean, and to the right, the towering silhouette of Highland Peak from Goldenvale Town.

To our left was a steep drop-off, a treacherous slope strewn with jagged boulders and dense thickets of trees—a veritable cliff’s edge for any vehicle moving at high speeds.

It was clear—the other car's intent was simple: to run us off the road and push us down the cliffside.

I shouted into the phone, “We’re on Seabreeze Boulevard, just pas—”

With a jarring crash, my body lurched forward, my words were cut off as the seatbelt tightened my chest painfully. Then I was yanked back into my seat, my head spinning, seeing stars.

They had rammed us from behind this time.

Gripping the handle desperately, fear spread through me like wildfire, my palms slick with sweat.

Hannah was silent, laser-focused on the road, her eyes darting to the rear-view mirror to track the pursuing vehicle, keeping the pressure on, never letting it gain on us.

Peering into the side mirror, I saw the other car, like a crazed beast, relentlessly biting at our heels, its movements suggesting it wouldn't stop until we were dead.

The road wasn't too busy at this hour, but the occasional car would pass by. We dodged and weaved, our car drawing S-curves on the asphalt, I could hear the screech of tires.

I was too petrified by the sudden onslaught to even scream, clinging silently to the handle above the car window.

Hannah was controlling the steering wheel calmly, the car drifting across the road. I understood her strategy—she was determined not to let the other car overtake us, to prevent it from forcing us off the road. If we went over, it would mean certain death, no chance of survival.

Furthermore, the attacks targeted the passenger side, which meant I, sitting shotgun, was in the direct line of fire. It was clear—I was their target!