Page 101 of Midnight Curfew

Milo’s trying to reverse his car.

In a moment, Jerome lays on the gas and he and Callum dart off, down the lane to cut us off.

Backing away from the fence, I listen to his engine as he coasts away. It fades a little, but then it’s there again as Jerome makes a right, driving in the direction Iron went. Milo’s tires screech, still struggling in front of the house, and I flinch, training my ears to single out Callum’s engine. The town’s not big. He’ll have cops posted at both roads leading in and out of the Bay, and he’ll anticipate we’ll be trying to get to the storehouse or the school.

Mimi Collins’s house is behind a gate and they have no reason to go into that area, so Macon and his guys should be safe. Until they try to leave, that is. Hopefully, Army is keeping him posted.

Tilting my head, I listen for Jerome and Callum’s car as it makes another right.

Heat radiates off everything. The grass, the tree trunks, the pool, and the sweat trickling down my neck and spine.

What is he going to do? Once he has us arrested, will he be happy?

Of course not. He’s a fucking shell, and I don’t care what Macon says about the long game. They’re all nothing, and I’m tired of protecting our land.

I want theirs.

Tonight, I’m kicking his ass. He’s not making me run. Not now. Not ever.

I chase the sound of their engine, scaling the fence and jumping down into a small wooded area. Jogging to keep track of their movement, I follow the gentle rumble down into the business district, halfway between where we crashed the cart and Marymount.

Hiding in the trees, I follow their taillights, running alongside them as they check the storehouse and take the quiet street up to Marymount.

A police officer moves ahead, searching the school parking lot while I notice Milo’s BMW is parked over a curb. Jerome and Callum screech to a halt behind his vehicle, an officer hovering over Milo.

Callum climbs out of Jerome’s Audi, slamming the car door.

He charges up to Milo. “Fuck, what are you doing?” he barks.

Milo gets in his friend’s face. “I would’ve caught them!”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re holding me back!”

Callum hooks his hand around the back of his friend’s neck, biting out in his face, “I don’t want them dead. I want them alive to see this.”

He walks into Milo, not releasing him as he forces the latter to stumble backward.

Callum’s chest glistens, the blond at his temples darkened with sweat.

“They’ll watch us take back Krisjen,” Callum tells him, “and take back Clay and then watch us take a wrecking ball to that house and everything else there.” He jerks Milo’s neck. “And if you don’t do it my way, I’ll kick you out of my way.”

My cock twitches, and I push the fucking thing back down.

Pushing Milo away, Callum heads back to Jerome’s car.

“You need me,” Milo reminds him.

Callum just scowls, telling the cop, “Take him to Fox Hill.”

Officer Grady holds out his hand, ready to grab Milo, but he shoves it away, watching his friends go.

Callum and Jerome drive off, and I drift through the brush, between houses, and up St. Clare Avenue, following the sound of their car.

Jerome pulls through the Ameses’ gate, and I hop up a tree, scaling the white wall.

Slipping down, I crouch behind hedges. Callum gets out of the car and then leans back in the window, talking to Jerome.