Chapter 5 - The Black Sedan
1214 Words
Emma told herself she was being ridiculous.
She repeated it three times while walking toward her car.
Ridiculous.
Paranoid.
Overtired.
The hospital parking garage was the same as it had been every other night.
Concrete pillars.
Fluorescent lights.
The distant echo of footsteps.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing threatening.
Nothing at all.
Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.
The feeling had started after her conversation with Nathaniel.
After hearing about Vincent Moretti.
After learning that people had died simply because they crossed paths with him.
And especially after seeing the look on Nathaniel's face when Agent Ross mentioned her name.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
Emma unlocked her car.
The headlights flashed.
The sound echoed through the garage.
She slid into the driver's seat and immediately locked the doors.
Then laughed at herself.
"Get a grip, Emma."
The words sounded unconvincing.
Even to her.
________________________________________
Rain misted across the windshield as she pulled onto the street.
The city of Chicago glowed beneath wet pavement and reflected lights.
Traffic moved steadily.
People hurried beneath umbrellas.
Life continued normally.
Exactly as it should.
Emma loosened her grip on the steering wheel.
See?
Everything was—
A pair of headlights appeared in her rearview mirror.
She barely noticed them at first.
A black sedan.
Nothing remarkable.
Nothing suspicious.
Just another car.
Three blocks later it was still there.
Emma frowned.
Five blocks later it remained behind her.
The same distance.
The same lane.
A knot tightened in her stomach.
Coincidence.
It had to be.
She changed lanes.
The sedan changed lanes.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
No.
Still coincidence.
She took the next right turn.
The sedan followed.
Emma's heartbeat stumbled.
The rain suddenly seemed louder.
The road narrower.
The city darker.
She glanced in the mirror again.
Black sedan.
Tinted windows.
No visible license plate from this angle.
Still there.
Still following.
Her pulse began climbing.
Fast.
Too fast.
Maybe she was imagining it.
Maybe—
The sedan took another turn behind her.
Emma's stomach dropped.
A cold wave of fear slid down her spine.
The realization came suddenly.
Violently.
This wasn't her imagination.
Someone was following her.
________________________________________
Nathaniel hadn't slept.
Again.
The city lights shimmered through the rain-streaked hospital window.
The room remained quiet.
Too quiet.
His shoulder hurt.
His head hurt.
Everything hurt.
But none of that explained the restlessness crawling beneath his skin.
The feeling had started when Ross mentioned Emma.
It hadn't left since.
Nathaniel stared at the dark window.
Years of survival had taught him something important.
Instinct mattered.
When something felt wrong—
it usually was.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
Ross entered.
Nathaniel immediately noticed the tension in the agent's face.
"What happened?"
Ross looked surprised.
"How do you know something happened?"
Nathaniel gave him a flat look.
"You look like someone ran over your dog."
Ross sighed.
"That's oddly specific."
"What happened?"
The agent crossed his arms.
"Nothing."
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed.
Ross looked away.
Nathaniel immediately stood.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
He ignored it.
"What happened?"
Ross cursed under his breath.
"I hate when you do that."
"Ross."
The agent finally exhaled.
Then reached for his phone.
A moment later, he held it out.
Nathaniel looked down.
His stomach tightened instantly.
Security footage.
Hospital parking garage.
Emma.
Nathaniel's pulse slowed.
Dangerously.
The way it always did before something bad happened.
"What am I looking at?"
Ross enlarged the image.
A black sedan.
Nathaniel stared.
The room became very still.
"When was this taken?"
"Twenty minutes ago."
Nathaniel's jaw clenched.
"Who is it?"
"We don't know."
The answer landed badly.
Very badly.
Ross continued.
"One of our surveillance teams noticed it leaving shortly after Dr. Hart."
Nathaniel didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Ross knew him well enough to recognize the signs.
"Don't."
Nathaniel looked up.
"Don't what?"
"You know exactly what."
Ross folded his arms.
"It could be nothing."
Neither of them believed that.
The silence stretched.
Ross sighed.
"We already sent a team."
Nathaniel's expression remained unreadable.
"To her apartment?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Ross studied him carefully.
Then—
"You care about her."
Nathaniel laughed once.
A cold sound.
"No."
"Really?"
"No."
Ross looked unconvinced.
Nathaniel looked away.
Toward the rain.
Toward the city.
Toward the growing sense that everything was beginning to unravel.
He barely knew Emma.
Three days.
That was all.
Three days.
Yet somehow her face kept appearing in his thoughts.
Her laugh.
Her stubbornness.
The way she looked directly at him instead of at his reputation.
The way she treated him like a person.
Not an asset.
Not a witness.
Not a billionaire.
Just a man.
Nathaniel hated how much that mattered.
________________________________________
Emma took another turn.
Then another.
The sedan remained behind her.
Every instinct screamed now.
Run.
Hide.
Do something.
Her hands trembled slightly against the wheel.
She grabbed her phone.
Immediately dropped it.
The light ahead turned red.
No.
No no no.
Emma slowed.
The sedan slowed.
Panic surged.
The red light stretched endlessly before her.
A prison.
A trap.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Then—
Headlights exploded behind her.
Bright.
Fast.
Approaching.
Another SUV appeared.
Dark-colored.
Large.
Aggressive.
Emma's stomach dropped.
The black sedan remained behind her.
The SUV closed from the side.
For one horrifying second, she thought she was trapped.
Then something unexpected happened.
The SUV cut directly between her vehicle and the sedan.
The maneuver was deliberate.
Precise.
Professional.
The black sedan immediately changed lanes.
Accelerated.
And disappeared through the intersection.
Gone.
Just like that.
Emma stared.
Confused.
Breathing hard.
The SUV remained behind her.
Following.
Not threatening.
Protective.
Her phone rang.
The screen displayed an unfamiliar number.
Emma answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Dr. Hart."
Agent Ross.
Relief crashed through her so hard she nearly laughed.
"Oh, my God!"
"Are you okay?"
Emma glanced into her mirror.
The SUV remained behind her.
"Someone was following me."
"We know."
Her heart skipped.
"What?"
"We intercepted it."
Emma's fingers tightened around the phone.
"You knew?"
"We suspected."
The answer wasn't reassuring.
At all.
Emma swallowed.
"Who were they?"
A pause.
Too long.
Ross finally answered.
"We don't know yet."
The fear returned immediately.
Sharp.
Cold.
Real.
"What am I supposed to do?"
Ross hesitated.
Then—
"Go home."
Emma laughed.
The sound bordered on hysterical.
"That's your advice?"
"No."
His voice hardened.
"My advice is to pack a bag."
The words hit like ice water.
Emma's breath caught.
"What?"
"Just in case."
Silence.
Heavy.
Terrifying.
The city lights blurred through the rain.
Emma suddenly thought of Nathaniel.
Of the guilt in his eyes.
Of the warning he never quite said aloud.
People around me get hurt.
Ross spoke again.
Quietly this time.
"Dr. Hart."
Emma swallowed.
"Yes?"
"Until we know what's happening..."
Another pause.
"We need you to stay alert."
The line went silent.
Emma slowly lowered the phone.
Outside, rain continued falling across Chicago.
Inside the hospital, several miles away, Nathaniel Reed stood at the window, staring into the darkness.
And for the first time since entering protective custody—
he wasn't worried about himself.
He was worried about Emma.
Because someone had started asking questions.
Someone had started watching.
And if Vincent Moretti's organization had truly noticed Emma Hart—
The stakes just got a lot higher.
- Writer
