Page 108 of Fatality

From the corner of my eye, and from the sound of her breathing, I can tell she's being unusually quiet.

No screaming. No insults.

“Well,” I say without glancing at her. I can hear her sharp breaths. “If I'd known giving you a ride would make you this obedient and silent...”

I pause.

“I would've done it sooner.”

No answer.

Is she ignoring me now?

A new wave of irritation hits me. I slam my foot down on the accelerator.

The speedometer climbs higher and higher.

We're already doing 120 mph through the wide streets of the Lower Layers, weaving between cars.

I grip the wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth grind together.

After all the stunts she pulled, the last thing I expected was silence.

Tsk.

They all love to play until they find out what real adrenaline feels like.

I'm going to make sure she'll fucking scream.

I turn the steering wheel sixty degrees to the left, then forty to the right. I yank the handbrake and slam on the brakes, sending the car into a violent U-turn.

The tires shriek against the pavement.

The moment the car straightens, I slam my foot back onto the accelerator and drop the handbrake.

I grin.

I fucking live for that shit.

Then I take a sharp turn into a side street, heading toward the dock district I control.

I'm at 130 mph now, in a fucking side street.

But I still get nothing from her.

My eyebrow shoots up, it pisses me off even more now.

She is doing this on purpose, she is ignoring me.

I slow down and park. Then I turn to face her and tilt my head.

“So,” I start, “you wanted to play with the big boys.” A self-satisfied smile spreads across my face. “Welcome to the consequences.”

For a few seconds, nothing.

Again.

Alright, that's enough.