Page 212 of Midnight Curfew

I hear a click behind me, my heart dropping, and I hold her tight.

He charges out of the station, and I ignore the one cop left behind the desk as I spin around and take the knife from her hand, sheathing the blade again.

“I don’t want to go home,” she says.

Her tone is hushed but clear and decisive.

I hook the pocketknife back onto her belt loop. “We’re not going home.”

Hand in hand, we walk to my car, the space where our driver was parked along the curb already empty. Barnes would take him home. There are no restaurants or bars open, and Fox Hill would be under lockdown as well.

Raking my hand through my hair, I comb out the rain as I shift into high gear, taking full advantage of the empty streets and the fact that the police are probably sick of dealing with us tonight.

“What’s the plan?” Anna-Katherine asks.

She’s sitting up and turned toward me, holding the dash with one hand.

Rain spills down the windshield like a fucking curtain. “I need to speak to Clay’s grandmother,” I say. “Whatever she says goes in this town.”

I’m not worried about my father finding the treasure, but I am concerned he can rally an opposition. He’s had years to network.

I didn’t expect him home so soon. Fucking Milo.

“I’ll plead my case tonight,” I inform her. “Vault the treasure tomorrow and run him out of town with at least half the city council to support me.”

The old lady doesn’t like me, but she hates the Wolfe Room. If we confide in her about Anna-Katherine, she’ll know he has to go.

Liv’s film crew used her house, so she probably left, but she might be back now that they’re done. If not, I’ll call her.

Lights glare out my driver’s side window, and I look just in time to see a vehicle race right toward my door. A BMW?

I floor the gas and hold up my arm to shield myself. “Down!” I yell at my sister.

The car hits the tail of my car, and we spin around as I try to control the steering wheel. I slam on the brakes and my car skids in the rain, finally dying in the middle of the road. What the fuck?

I grab Anna-Katherine, lifting her head. “Are you okay?”

She opens her eyes, breathing hard, but she doesn’t get a chance to answer before broken glass flies all over me.

My sister screams, and I push our heads down as the sound of the rain rushes in with the wind.

Twisting my head, I see a guy in a black ski mask reach in to unlock my door.

His other hand is covered in a black glove as he holds it to his chest.

Milo.

I guess I didn’t break both hands.

He pulls open the door and leans down, flashing a grin through his mask. “What a night, you piece of shit!”

Two others surround the car, both masked, but I can see the beard of one, and the other figure is short. Maybe his relatives? Definitely not Jerome or Vincent.

“Perfect for a little payback,” he blurts out. “And look, you brought my dessert.”

His attention flies to Anna-Katherine, and I twist, grabbing the steering wheel in one hand and the headrest in the other, jutting both of my legs into his fucking chest.

Son of a bitch. I should’ve had him arrested for something. Even if I had to make up a reason.