Chapter 83
Mrs. York felt a flutter of panic in her chest as she watched the sleek automobile pull up: “But why are your taking out your Pagani, Tyrone? I thought you said you were done with racing?”
There isn’t a man alive who doesn’t love a good set of wheels, and Tyrone York was no exception. He was passionate, he was loaded, and he could afford the luxury. His garage housed a collection of the world’s most elite supercars, valued at over ten million dollars. In his wild youth, he’d bet on races and tore up the tracks himself.
And those two Paganis, priced at a cool $3.5 million each, weren’t even the crown jewels of his collection. Tyrone swung open the car door and hopped in: “Got business to handle.”
Mrs. York, with her anxiety spiked, blurted: “What business? Where are you off to? You’re not meeting someone for a race, are you? Son, you can’t do that.”
Not even acknowledging her, Tyrone just closed the door, fired up the engine, and sped off, leaving Mrs. York clutching her heart and exclaiming in distress, “Everything was fine, what on earth is going on?”
Alexander had a gut feeling that something was off with Tyrone. After multiple attempts, he finally got through on the phone, and said with a voice laced with urgency, “Tyrone, where are you?”
Tyrone gripped the steering wheel, with the streetlights and tall buildings flashing by in a blur; the speed. was too much for the average eye to track.
Just on the road,” Tyrone responded coolly.
“What road? Where are you headed?”
“Zion City.”
Alexander felt a rush of disbelief, “Are you mad? It’s late, and you’re driving? That’s insane, it’s a two–hour flight away.”
Tyrone hung up abruptly.
He needed to do something; otherwise, how would he manage to sleep tonight?
After being cut off, Alexander couldn’t reach him again.
From Emberbrook to Zion City, it was over 130 miles as the crow flies. Even if Tyrone pushed his car to the limit at 250 miles per hour, it would take him over three hours to get there.
And if he really hit 250, he’d be caught by the cops before long. No matter how you sliced it, it was going to take at least six hours to arrive.
Alexander sat in his own car, worried sick, knowing sleep was out of the question tonight.
He couldn’t fathom what was going on with those photos.
He had never seen Tyrone lose control so quickly before. Sure, Tyrone had his reckless days in the past, but in recent years, he had seemed to mature and stabilize.
Those photos, though, were trouble.
Shaking his head, Alexander marveled at the sight of Tyrone getting so worked up over a woman. It was
Chapter 83.
nothing short of a miracle.
At 6:34 AM, after more than five hours on the road, when the sky just began to lighten, Tyrone finally drove into Zion City.
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