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A siren pierced through the car’s silence, half-covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.
Pull over or run?
There’d be no talking his way out of this, and if he got caught, they’d probably find out about Fox and Luke and Addison. Ophelia would have her twins alone.
Before he could second-guess himself, he hammered on the gas, and the car burst forward like an unharnessed thoroughbred. He weaved in and out of traffic, narrowly avoiding several cars that stopped dead in exactly the wrong place. The cop followed, edging back and forth, but he wasn’t about to get freaked out by a bit of aggressive driving.
As soon as he was past the last of the city traffic, he opened her up, letting the car do what it had been designed for. The motor growled, and his heart battered at his ribs.
The cop gave chase, but even though he had the guy completely out-machined, cops had backup. He was on his own.
The Maserati flew down the desert highway, obeying his every command with a precision that he’d find deeply satisfying, almost sexual, if he wasn’t in such a dire situation. He was well and truly fucked. And at a hundred and sixty miles an hour, one wrong move and he’d be a dead man.
For an instant the possibility flashed through his mind. If he was dead, maybe they wouldn’t bother investigating the others. Fox and Addison were gone on their honeymoon, and Luke and Ophelia were at her place, so they might not look for accomplices.
Desert flashed past, red and tan and gold and umber. The hazy sky baked the ground in the late-day sun. Mirages shimmered on the road, promising distant puddles that never came.
Slowly, the cruiser fell behind, unable to keep pace. Over every rise he expected cops. His knuckles were white where he gripped the wheel, and no amount of trying to relax was working. There’d be a spike belt and he needed to be ready. Needed to have a good grip on the wheel so he didn’t lose control.
Maybe he should stop now rather than take the chance of a blowout, or maybe he could slow down so an accident wouldn’t be lethal. He could stop and plead guilty to everything they found evidence to, and go away for a long time. It would be better than dying today. The whole family would beggar themselves to get him a good lawyer, if it came to that.
No, he’d keep trying to get away. Forget giving up.
Road flew under his tires, and he got used to the car’s every quirk and trick.
Besides, how was he going to screw the pretty little detective if he was in jail? If he got out of this, he’d let himself have her. Once.
His phone buzzed, but he ignored it. If it was Jenny it was too late, and if it was Luke he was safer not knowing what was going on. Atlas wondered if having his phone locked and passworded was enough, if he got arrested. Laws kept changing, but for now it would probably keep the others from being compromised.
He was up over the hills and well into the desert before he slowed. The rearview mirror hadn’t shown him a glimpse of chrome, let alone a cop, in ages, and he wondered why there hadn’t been backup. Maybe no one was available, or no one was this far out. He eased off the gas, his heart still hammering in his ears. Cooling sweat made his T-shirt cling to his chest, itching. Air-conditioning couldn’t fix it.
Before he lost his chance, he pulled off onto a side road and drove for a while until he found a sandpit. Fuck. He didn’t even have any water. Idiot. It was going to be a long walk home.
Ten minutes into his walk down the road, his phone rang.
“Did someone call for a pizza?”
Jenny. Thank god. “Yes, that was me.” Atlas stopped and looked up at the sky. They always used code, just in case. There was no knowing who might be listening.
“What’ll you have?”
“Bacon and pineapple, with extra sauce.” Sometimes it was hard to remember the code word combinations. Hopefully he’d gotten it right.
There was a long silence. “Hmm. That wasn’t on the menu.”
“I know, I had a craving.”
She snorted. “Pickup or delivery?”
“Could you deliver please?” he asked, trying to sound charming rather than cranky and tired. “It’s . . . hot here,” he added, so the driver would know police had been chasing him.
“What’s the address?”
He explained how to get to his location, and by then Jenny was full-out laughing at him.
“Was this random craving about a girl?”
