I had half a mind to chuck my phone at him, and maybe I would have if I didn’t need it to get myself out of here.
“You are reprehensible,” I said, stalking straight up to him again since he was going to insist on blocking my path. “You ghost me with no word, and then you show up again just to delay things over your dumb collectible survivor-condition car, which I shouldneverhave agreed to borrow!”
“My car?” he repeated.
“Your stupid car!” I yelled. “I’m sorry, I know it’s important to you, but I can’t keep doing this, okay? On that note, I thoughtyoucouldn’t, either. If for different reasons.”
Since his Reaper Man form made him invisible to any passersby or window watchers, I had to look like a lunatic out here, screaming at no one on the sidewalk in the middle of the night.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“The plan!” I screeched at him. “I’m talking about the plan, Grim. The one that weallagreed to—including you!”
I poked him again in the chest, but this time, he caught me bythe wrist. I tried to yank away, but the man was the hand of death, and wasn’t death known for having a grip that wouldn’t let go?
When it came to me, unfortunately, that was true for him in more ways than one.
“You selfish creature,” I growled between my teeth.
“You’re mad at me,” he said, that monster’s voice low, even, and unaffected—infuriatingly so.
“What was your first clue!”
“Because I came back,” he said, a flat statement he truly meant as a question.
“Yes!” I shouted. “No,” I amended, somehow managing to wrestle my arm free, which I cradled against me even though he hadn’t hurt me. At least not physically.
“You’re upset about the train,” he said. “I’m taking you home. I’ll put you in the car if I have to.”
“Over my supposed-to-be-dead body!” I snapped back before whirling again, walking in the other direction now. Except the sight of those train tracks, Grim’s car, and that broken gate had me halting again and once more fighting a panic attack.
I wobbled, overcome all over again. Then my knees gave out.
He caught me. Of course he caught me.
“Put me down,” I demanded, but I’d lost my ability to shout now. Grim wasn’t listening anyway and wouldn’t.
Instead, he carried me back to The Judge and placed me carefully in the front passenger’s seat.
He slammed the door, probably just as irate as I was now—or even more so.
Then he dematerialized and rematerialized in the driver’s seat.
Of course, whenheturned the key, the car started.
Of. Course.
“You want to tell me why you’re mad, or what?” he asked.
I spared a dazed glance his way, lost for how he couldn’t understand why I was upset and even more confused at why he had me back inhis car, and was bothering to, with those wispy tendrils, fasten myflippingseat belt.
Just like old times…
“I wouldn’t have agreed to borrow your car if I’d known,” I said.
“Knownwhat?” He shifted The Judge into gear with one skeleton hand and started forward, down the deserted street to the next set of traffic lights, which flicked green.
“That it would stop you.”
