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I wasn’t any worse for Will than he was, so he could stow it.
We all climbed into the car, and I started it, punching the gas and swerving around the driveway.
Would Martin be there? I knew he didn’t live or work in town anymore, but he still maintained a presence here, and if his police had Will Grayson in a cell, that would almost certainly get him out of bed at this hour.
Shit. I didn’t want to see Martin. I didn’t need to face him. We’d been done.
Will, you’re such an asshole.
I raced through town as Micah filled me in on where they’d all gone tonight and what Will had decided to do. I was tempted to jerk the wheel right on over to the cathedral and disappear—stay somewhere he couldn’t find me— but…
I should’ve gone to him years ago. I was going to show up for him once. At least once before this was over.
Stopping in front of the police station, I looked across the street, seeing a figure behind the desk inside, the neighborhood quiet and not another soul in sight.
“We need a distraction,” I told Damon. “Any ideas?”
He stared out the front window, ignoring me, but then…he dropped his eyes and exhaled, giving in.
He turned his head, speaking to Micah and Rory. “Get out.”
What?
“Hell no,” Rory said. “We’re going in.”
“Get those cars started,” Damon told Micah, turning and meeting his eyes and then pointing to the vehicles parked down the street behind him.
Micah’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?”
But Damon didn’t explain. Taking out his phone, he dialed and held it to his ear, the other line ringing.
“Mayor Fane?” he teased to Erika, I assumed. “Two idiots are drag racing around Thunder Bay. Can you call the station and tell all units to report to Delphi heading east?” he asked and then clarified. “Alllllll units.”
I heard her voice on the other end. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but it sounded like an angry ferret.
“Don’t be a douche,” he said, picking at the cord of his hoodie. “What else do you do all day anyway?”
More angry chatter.
“Suck me,” he mumbled, and then she said something else, and then he said, “Yeah, your mom…”
He hung up and then looked over his shoulder again at Micah.
“How did you know I was the one who knew how to hotwire a car?” Micah asked.
“Because you’re the one with shit to prove to your loser old man,” Damon retorted. “We can smell our own. Now, both of you, hurry up.”
I glanced in my rearview mirror, seeing both of their mouths curl into grins. Yeah, who were they kidding? They liked trouble, too.
Damon withdrew a Slim Jim from under the seat and handed it to them, both of them hopping out of the car and running down the block.
In minutes, headlights illuminated behind us and both cars, a Mustang and a Jeep raced past, disappearing down the avenue.
“What’s the plan?” Damon asked.
I stared at the officer inside the station house. “I don’t know.”
To my surprise, excitement bubbled up from my stomach, and I almost smiled. I had zero clue what the hell I was doing, but I felt like it would work.
