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“No. No thanks,” I muttered, slipping around her, my gaze scanning the dimly lit street outside the large glass windows. Had I missed him? Was he gone already?
“Well, you still gotta pay for this!” she called, holding up the plate with the burger and fries. But I didn’t answer, and I didn’t stop.
Shoving open the door, I glanced around quickly, my heart thudding hard in my chest. My breath fogged before my face, little puffs of air in the cool, dark night.
There!
I’d been right. Flint wasn’t bluffing, and he wasn’t waiting around for me to make up my mind. I caught sight of his dark hair and leather jacket as he slid into a car halfway down the block.
“Wait!”
He glanced up, and the look on his face suggested he was hoping I would’ve just stayed in the diner, maybe eaten his burger as a consolation prize, and gone home.
But I couldn’t.
He knew something. I was sure of it.
And I needed to find out what it was.
I half expected Flint to jump into his car and speed away before I could reach him, but he actually waited, leaning against his open car door and watching me with an annoyed look as I hurried up to him.
His car was the same black sedan with tinted windows that I’d seen him driving before. When I neared it, my footsteps slowed.
“Will you tell me about my dad?” I asked, eyeing him across the top of the car.
His eyes narrowed, something like pity glinting in his dark irises. “You really think you can handle the truth, little girl? You really wanna know what dear old daddy was up to?”
I swallowed, my blood turning to water at his words. No, I honestly wasn’t sure I did want to know, but I had to. I needed to know if my entire life had been built on lies.
“I can handle it,” I finally said, my voice low.
“Then get in.” He shook his head resignedly before he dropped out of my view, sliding into the driver’s seat opposite me.
There was one moment of hesitation as I stood outside the dark car. Fuck. I wish I could text the Lost Boys and let them know where I am. Just in case.
But of course, if they knew where I was, they’d also know what I was doing.
Shoving down my fear, I reached for the door handle, pulled it open, and slid into the sedan. The interior of the car smelled strongly of stale cigarette smoke, and I tried to keep the grimace off my face as I inhaled shallowly through my nose.
The silence was beyond awkward as Flint pulled away from the curb, but I kept my cool.
“Where are we going?” I asked, keeping my gaze trained out the windshield.
“Someplace we can talk without bein’ overheard. You’re askin’ me for some information I really shouldn’t be blabbing to anybody.”
He shook his head, as if he really couldn’t believe he was doing this. We drove in silence for a few minutes, through the dimly lit streets of Baltimore, and I tried to find a landmark I recognized—since I’d started running with the Lost Boys, I’d seen a lot more of the city than I ever had before, but I didn’t know this neighborhood at all.
As he turned down a less busy street, I glanced over toward him, taking in his profile. His nose had a little bump halfway down it from what I assumed was a previous break.
“Can we—I mean, do you want to talk in here? Seems as private as anything. Why do we have to go somewhere else?”
He dropped his head for a second, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. When he glanced back over at me, his expression was harder than it had been earlier. “That’s a damn good question. Took you long enough to ask it.”
“What—what do you mean?”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I mean, who says we’re going to be talkin’, Princess?”
I’d gotten used to the Lost Boys calling me princess, and even though the tone of the word had been harsh and bitter at first, it’d changed over time. But the way it sounded coming from Flint was unsettling. What’s more—
