BooksBarbecue
Back Vortex
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. Epilogue
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Catherine Coulter
  61. About the Publisher

Mia didn’t leave the blessed warmth of the restaurant until she was wrapped to her eyebrows. She pulled on her gloves as she stepped outside into the middle of a crowd, all of them looking for a taxi. She hadn’t called an Uber, hadn’t thought of it. She called now, was told it would be twenty minutes. She watched as taxis pulled up to take in people in front of her. She huddled in her coat, wrapped her arms around herself. No, this was ridiculous, she wasn’t going to wait for an Uber. She’d hike to the subway station on West Fourth near Washington Square, only three blocks up if she took a shortcut. If she hurried, she could call Travis from the station, and if the trains were running smoothly, she’d be home in under half an hour.

She made her way to Sullivan Street and headed toward Washington Square. The businesses in the neighborhood were closed for the day, the only light coming from the streetlights and from apartment windows. Mia walked fast, head down against the wind. She saw an occasional taxi, but of course they were already occupied. She paused next to a dark building, the NYU School of Law, when she saw two men on the corner passing something to each other, probably a drug deal. She walked to the other side of the street and kept trudging.

She heard a car engine, her first thought that it might be a taxi. She half turned, an arm raised to flag it down, but it wasn’t a taxi, it was a large dark sedan and it was coming fast, too fast. It swerved suddenly and drove straight toward her. Her heart jumped and a hoarse scream burst out of her mouth.

31

Mia

Headlights hit her full in the face, blinding her, and Mia stumbled back, tripped on the curb. She went down and rolled behind two garbage cans as the sedan jumped the curb and plowed into them. The cans bounced over her, the lids went flying, sending bags of garbage raining down. She covered her head with her arms, kept scrambling backward on her elbows. She heard the car engine revving, then the blessed sound of a man’s shout. He was running toward her, yelling, waving his arms at the car.

It seemed like forever the sedan didn’t move, until the driver slammed into reverse, dragging one of the toppled garbage cans with him, and roared away up the empty street. The man was panting when he came down on his knees beside her. “Are you okay?”