Page 116 of Dark Ugly Places

Bambi throws up her hands. “I don’t have time for this. Jason’s interview is winding up.”

“Right,” I say. “Where are your bags?”

She points over to the corner, where a few bags are positioned against the wall.

“Okay. I’ll load them into the car. Emmy, you change over the license plates on the Beetle.”

“Got it,” Emmy says, and goes to the trunk to get the Colorado plates she bought for us on Alibaba, just like I asked. Clever little shit. In a few moments, they’re changed over. I load up the bags myself into the back seat and hand Bambi my keys. She appears to be shaking. “Are you sure you can handle this?”

She nods once. “Yes.” She grips my wrist and pulls me into her. “There’s something else. They found out I’m … I’m pregnant. It’s all over the news.”

“How the fuck?” I slip. “I mean, how did this happen?”

Bambi’s eyes narrow. “No one knew. Except for you.”

I shove past her toward the entrance to the house, keeping my voice low. “And why would I tell them, Bambi?”

“I don’t know. Why would you?” A moment of silence between us.

“I didn’t tell anybody anything, Bambi. I’m trying to protect you!”

Emmy looks between us and holds up the bag containing the blonde-colored wig and baseball cap I asked her for. “Speaking of which,” she says. “You’re both going to need to put these on to drive out of here. And Bambi, we’ll need your keys, please.”

Bambi nods and goes to the wall where she plucks a set of keys from a security box. “Here,” she says and hands them to me. “This better work.”

“It will. I’ll drive out, disguised as you in your car, to distract the paparazzi. You take my car, wear the hat, and go straight for the freeway like I told you. No one will think to follow you.”

She looks like she’s about to say something, then both of us freeze as footsteps approach from behind the door to the house.

“Go!” I whisper. It’s time. Bambi slips inside, and I close the interior door to the garage. Emmy and I slip past the Wraith and wait in the corner of the dimly lit garage. I hear her call Jason’s name beyond the door, then silence.

“Why are we helping her again?” Emmy whispers to me in the dark.

“Because she needs us,” I say, keeping my voice low. “And we’re doing what you wanted, remember? Getting even.”

Emmy nods once and looks at the car. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I say calmly. And then, out of a strange and rare feeling of pity,

I say, “Are you okay?” She closes her eyes for a brief moment, then gestures to the car. “I remember it being much bigger.”

Nicola’s memory flashes, pure white, blue-sky day. The hood ornament gripping flesh, piercing. “Your mom does, too,” I tell her. She flashes me a look, and I instantly regret bringing her mom into this. “That’s normal.”

She goes to the car and runs her fingertips along the body. “So, we’re going to drive this now?

“No,” I say. That would be stupid.”

Emmy touches the hood ornament with her fingers. I follow her as she traces the length of the car. “I remember feeling like I was flying,” she says. “It was terrifying, and just a short minute, but I was in the air. Everything looked red. Even the sky. That was before I felt my head.”

She pauses at the helm of the car, the crest of the grill shining even in the dark. Her hand presses into the cool metal and strokes the length of it. “Are you sure this is the car?”

I decide to tell her. What harm can it do? She needs to see like I do. “Yes,” I tell her. “I have evidence, remember?”

“Show me.”

I fumble for her hand in the dark and give her the tiny black lock of hair that I’ve taken to keeping in my pocket these past few days. Her hair. “What is this?”

“I found it in the tire,” I tell her. “It was still there all this time.”