The two are carrying what looks like gift bags in each hand. However, the looks on their faces couldn’t be more serious. They stop before us and hold the bags out toward us.
“Sammy sent us to hand you these. Open them and we will give you the next instructions,” Jamie says.
We each take a bag. I peer into mine and furrow my brows. There’s a motorcycle helmet inside. Looking up, I find the others pulling out the same.
“Okay,” Tasha drags out.
“I’ll make this quick. You are to use those. Once you have them on, everything will make sense. The kid is under attack. The location and everything else will be provided through the helmet.”
I don’t give Jamie a chance to finish his words before I’m in motion. Tasha is right at my side. We move from the restaurant, heading back to our bikes without a word.
Once outside, I tug the helmet on before I even get to my bike. Not again. I can’t be too late again.
“GPS loading,” an automated voice says through the helmet the moment it settles on my head.
An address flashes across my vision inside the windscreen. I recognize it as one of the property addresses Czar reported to me. He has been keeping me and Tasha in the loop concerning Sammy’s request of him.
“Hello, Dad.” Sammy’s voice is next to fill the helmet. “Don’t panic. I’m going to be fine.
“Miss Lovie has helped me with a few things. These helmets will show you all what my head is like. While you will still be able to navigate what’s before you. You will also have a view to your right of where I am and what’s happening.”
I glance to my right in the helmet and it’s like I’m in a video game. There is a view of a little box that saysfeed loading. However, I can still see out of the windscreen at what’s before me. I get to my bike and throw my leg over it, then push the button to bring the engine to life.
I note the helmet informs me that it has connected to my motorcycle’s Bluetooth. A speedometer appears as well. In the left corner is a GSP-like map and the time until my arrival at my destination. I want to roar as it says I’m nearly twenty-five minutes away.
“You will not make it to me in time to help, but I don’t need you. Mom, Dad, this is what I need you to see for yourselves. Uncle Uri and Auntie Val already understand what I’m capable of, but they have never seen it in real live action.
“Tonight, everyone will see and know. You guys need to understand for yourselves who I really am. You need to see why I will not fail.
“They have come to kill me, but they will be the only ones taking their last breath tonight. I am not only my father’s son. I will be my own man.”
The feed comes to life on the right side of my vision. I nearly growl. I swerve on my bike as I lose focus for a moment. This is fucking unreal.
Tasha
My heart is racingas I ride as fast and hard as I can. LaSalle has taken off ahead of us all. Uri and Val are behind me, and I believe Dylan and Jamie are driving behind them somewhere.
To be honest, I can’t focus on any of that. This helmet has my mind spinning. Sammy says this is what his head is like. Oh my God, this is insane.
While I’m trying to ride and reach my son without crashing into something or someone, I have the GPS in front of me on the left. On my right, there is now a feed showing me what’s going on where he is.
A horn blares as I run a light and I do almost get clipped. I gasp inside my helmet and try to focus on the road before me. LaSalle is way ahead now.
This time I do stop impatiently for the light. As I wait, I glance at the feed on the right side of my vision. Sammy rolls out of an elevator into what looks like an underground parking garage. He’s on the hoverboard I gave him for his birthday.
“Is that what he’s been carrying around in that duffel bag?” I mutter to myself.
Right away, I notice there’s something odd about Sammy’s posture while on the hoverboard. It’s like he’s mounted it at a strange angle or something. He’s also a bit slouched and he has Czar’s gray peacoat on over his shoulders as they’re slumped.
My brother and Maldonado step out of the elevator after Sammy, looking vigilant but calm. The feed focuses solely on my son. I note that he’s wearing sneakers.
Sammy is probably the only eleven-year-old I know who owns more dress shoes than sneakers and play shoes. When he left this morning, he was in a pair of black square-cap-toed oxfords. I know this because I whistled and teased him about how sharp he looked.
The smile on his face was so adorable and handsome as he fell into mocking the mannerisms he picked up from the Blacks—Ryan Black specifically—and began to preen and show off his fit. I laughed so hard while holding my belly and thinking about how much he’s growing up. I knit my brows, wondering what’s going on.
A horn behind me honks as I remain at the light, distracted by what I’m watching. I curse and pull off, gunning the bike once again. I’m trying to keep my focus on the road, but it’s hard.
With each passing moment, I’m starting to understand what it is like to live in Sammy’s head. No wonder some days he can’t give anyone his focus. I’m so overstimulated right now.
