Novel & Cerita Revolutionary Road Novel

#ROAD_TO_ABUJA 💦 🔞 🛣🚗 (An adventurous and erotic story) Chapter 1 🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧 🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧 🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧🚧

So I powered my phone off so I wouldn't be as tempted to read anymore and climbed into bed. I turned the lamp off and pulled a pillow to my chest. It was a long time before I fell asleep, and then I woke up just a few hours later from a nightmare where Rob was trying to kill me. I turned the lamp on and paced the floor. I turned my phone back on and had ten more texts from Rob.

Be careful on the road. I looked at the message and did not reply. Just then, my phone rang. It was Tristan. I hesitated for a few seconds, then answered. His voice was quiet. "I'm nearby. Can I see you for a moment?" I looked downstairs. He stood beneath a streetlamp, wearing a black coat. The fog blurred half his outline. It reminded me of years ago, when his startup had failed, and he stood downstairs at my place, lost, yet stubborn. Back then, I had run down and hugged him. Now, I only said, "Alright."

I tightened my embrace around his waist even more, feeling his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing behind that broad back. The motorcycle wheels turned slower after a fairly long journey. Reid chose to turn, taking us far away from the arrogant skyscraper shadows. A simple seafood restaurant by the beach welcomed our arrival. The tranquility in this place felt so contrasting, as if cutting off the boundary line from the exhausting noise of Meridian city.

He never asked about my days at school, never questioned why I spent my afternoons reading dusty books by the mango tree instead of playing with Zane. It was a quiet afternoon, the sun shining lazily in the sky. I was engrossed in a worn-out copy of Treasure Island, the adventures of Jim Hawkins, a welcome escape from monotony. A rustle in the bushes pulled me from my book. My heart pounded. Had Zane followed me? Was he about to launch another one of his "pranks"?

​The text broke into the paper with a brutal, deep-set violence, the heavy steel hammers engraving our survival straight into the spine of the capital's own transit corridor. ​THE EIGHTH PLOT — THE HIGHWAY BREACH, I typed, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the flashing blue lights of the interceptors began to stain the wooden sideboards of the truck in a violent, rhythmic violet. They built their roads to drain the provinces, but the asphalt is now carrying the flood. The seventh press is on the market stalls, and the eighth is writing itself at sixty miles an hour. You cannot check the cargo when the road itself has gone rogue.

I was so insistent on holding onto what has never belonged to me. When I came around once more, the narrow road behind me was already filled with traffic. I had no time to lose. I took a deep breath and knelt in front of Francis. "Francis, it's all my fault, but my father is innocent. Can you please clear a path and send him to the hospital?" I prostrated myself and bowed to the ground in front of him, baffling the other surrounding drivers. "My father has lost consciousness due to a cerebral hemorrhage. His life is at stake! I'm begging you, only you have such powers!"

Rubbing her brow, she said wearily, "You should head out first." "But, Ms. Thorne—" "I said go!" she snapped, her patience worn thin. Maxwell pressed his lips together. Despite his reluctance, he forced himself to step out. After he left, Beatrice went back to her desk. Looking at the error-filled report, a wave of memories washed over her. Seven years ago, I had also been a rookie starting from scratch. I had neither experience nor an outstanding academic background. Surrounded by applicants far more qualified than I was, I barely stood out at all. Yet somehow, I was the only one who made it through the probation period.

I held my cigarette and stared ahead. The massive convoy disappeared up the mountain. The sky grew darker by the minute. "In ten minutes that blizzard hits." Faye slammed her hand on the table. Her eyes were red. "They're still driving up there? Are they insane? That's suicide." Because I refused Cassidy's demand, Wanda couldn't hide her resentment. "Ms. Steele, this wasn't handled right." She looked away. "If you'd agreed to the rescue, they wouldn't have called in all those drivers.