Aching to reach for her, feel her skin against mine, kiss her ass to apologize or whatever the hell ever she demands I do, I walk away. Fuck it hurts; I never, ever, want to experience this again—leaving her behind. But, to avoid further confrontation, I take my spot at the table just as Em does and he launches into my chore for the night.
“The riders are delivering on Trail Street tonight and I need you to keep the five-o distracted. How, I don’t care. When, preferably within the hour. I’ll compensate you then you can go on your way. Then, when I call for you in the future—and I will—you don’t put either one of us through this refusal shit again. Clear? It would be terrible if something happened to that pretty girl you have sitting over there.”
My whole body goes rigid, teeth grinding together where they threaten to crack as my overly tense muscles lock tight to prevent me from retaliating. What good would it do anyway? They would hand me my ass on a silver platter. I don’t want this ‘in,’ actually, I want to be so far out of this circle that I’m way in left field.
“Why?” I ask, unsure I truly want the answer he’s about to give.
“I’ve seen you drive. If anyone can keep the cops busy, and get away, it’s you. I’m not asking you to do anything illegal, just…keep them occupied however you do.”
“You’re asking me to put Nadia in a dangerous situation. That doesn’t sit right with me, Em.”
“I don’t give a damn what sits right, I need you to take point on this. So, get your pretty girl, climb in that fucking Matchbox car out there, and do what I asked. Then you can walk away.”
Surely he doesn’t think I believe that shit, right? It’s hard enough for me to trust people under normal circumstances, but in this sort of situation? Like hell. Why can’t I tell him no, though?
Her.Because he threatened her. I’ll take every threat, every bit of violence, if he just leaves her be.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Nadia curled up where she sits. Her converse crushing the cushion under her while her arms bind tightly around her bent legs. She looks painfully vulnerable that way, hiding within herself like it will keep the nightmares from toying with her. Still, she’s alert with her chin resting on her knees. Keeping her sights on strange people moving around her—in a situation she didn’t ask to be a part of.
“Trail Street, you said?” Asking when I give Em my undivided attention.
“Yeah.”
“That’s precinct three and on the county line. If I’m going to keep them busy, your guys are going to need to move quickly. In and out like wraiths because if I fuck with the pigs too long, they will latch on to me and never let go. And I don’t know what’s worse, them hunting me for the rest of my life, or you.”
“Wise man you are. Here’s five bands for good faith. I’ll throw on another five when you get the job done.”
There’s no need for conversation at this point. I don’t want the money, I want out of the situation all together, but it’s sitting there staring at me and my racing career—the mods and upgrades—they’re already burning a hole in my empty pocket. So much can be done to the car if I had ten grand. The circuit would see me too, if the money I needed to buy into bigger races just fell into my lap.
Fuck.
FUCK!
Launching out of my seat, the movement shoves the chair back with so much force it skids across the concrete floor in a nerve grating scrape. Snatching the money from the table, I shove it into my pockets like it’s food I’ve just happened across after starving for days. In a way it is, this is my livelihood sitting there as crisp new Benjamin’s—it could cost me everything too.
“I can’t fucking believe you!” Nadia shouts at me, furiously latching her harness and tightening the straps. I don’t fault her for her anger, this wasn’t what she had in mind for her graduation night—frankly it’s not what I planned either but life fucks with you that way.
Buckling my own harness, we sit in silence as she stews and I overthink the job. How am I going to execute this and keep her safe? Keep her from cutting me out of her life? Maybe I should add kidnapping to my pending rap sheet and disappear with her despite her wants and desires. Nah, I can’t do that, I’ve fucked up enough as it is. But, I mean, it has its appeal. Handcuff her to me as we sleep, share everything with her—look at me, sounding like a right psychopath.
Cranking the car, she comes to life, music filling the cab once more. That laid back ride we were enjoying earlier? Heh, yeah that shit’s long gone now. All that’s left is a blanket of tension and animosity, the very same shit I watched her direct at others in the past.
Shifting into reverse, we’re out of the parking lot without so much of a fuss despite pulling back onto the road from hell. Each pothole, bump, and dip is less noticeable now that a crater exists between us. When we make it to the highway, Nadia is thrown back in her seat again when Delinquent launches up the on-ramp, zippering into traffic. Weaving between lanes, my feet and hands move through the motions of shifting gears at a subconscious level as I’m too concerned with the rift between us.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“You’re sorry?!” There she goes—give me every ounce of your anger, I can handle it.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I hate this ruined your night and there’s nothing I can do to get us out of it. I will apologize until I am blue in the face but it doesn’t make up for fucking things to hell.”
“Whatever he wants you to do, you could have said no. We should have left when I asked to. What are we doing anyway?”
Nadia’s venom has simmered a tad, the tone she has is still sharp but she’s listening rather than biting my head off—a good sign. Like the disappointment I am, I set her off again.
“We’re going to cause a diversion while the riders take care of the real shit. Em is employing my driving, so to say.”
“Un-fucking-believable. When we get out of this, you take your ass back to school and leave me the hell alone.”
“Oh come on, Nadia. Don’t be like that.”
