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“Hell no.”
We head downstairs and I direct us down the street to where I’ve parked the Falcon.
“Why orange?” Jack asks curiously, running his hand over the bonnet.
I shrug. “I like orange.”
He spends a few more moments admiring the car before turning back to me, palm outstretched.
With great reluctance, I tug my keys from my pocket and place them in his hand.
13
Jack
“Would you stop freaking out? I know how to drive manual.
“That’s debateable,” Alastor mutters, wincing as I downshift and the car makes a noise that I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to make.
Okay, yeah, so it’s been a while. My very first car was a manual Hyundai Lancer, but that was nearly twenty years ago now. It’s like riding a bike, though; once I get a feel for everything, I’ll be fine. If Alastor doesn’t have a heart attack first.
“Fucking hell, you’re going to wreck the car,” he groans.
“Calm down, I’m not going to wreck the car.”
I shift awkwardly again, and Alastor lets out a harsh curse, clutching tight to his seat as though we’re speeding down the freeway at two hundred k’s an hour.
“You need to relax,” I tell him.
“You need to drive better,” he grumbles.
Clearly frustrated with me, he places his hand over mine on the gear stick and guides me as I shift. If he thought putting his hand on mine would help me focus, he was dead wrong. All I can think about is how nice and warm his hand feels. And also, the gear stick kind of looks like...okay, mind out of the gutter, Macey.
“I don’t need you to help me,” u grate out, frustrated with myself about where I let my thoughts go.
“Just drive the fucking car, Macey,” Alastor chides, not removing his hand.
We get onto the highway and I’m able to let the car open up. “Fucking hell, this is incredible.” I really didn’t think there’d be that much of a difference, but there is. I can feel the power thrumming around me. It’s exhilarating. And the speed—bloody hell, it’s unbelievable.
“That’s enough,” Alastor says sharply, giving my hand a firm squeeze.
Grudgingly, I pull the car back to hover around the speed limit. I’d only been fifteen over, and there aren’t many other cars around this time of night, but he’s right— it’s not worth the risk.
“Get off up here,” Alastor says, indicating the next exit.
I move into the left lane, ready to turn off the highway. “What’s up here?”
“Somewhere with no speed limit.”
I turn off the highway and he directs me to a tiny airport that is clearly closed at this hour. The entrance is blocked off by an imposing boom gate and I hesitate before driving closer. “Are you sure about this?”
“A mate of mine runs this place. It’s cool, trust me.” “Okay...how do we get in?”
He digs in the glove box and retrieves an access card,
handing it to me. “Use this on the gate.”
I drive closer to the boom gate and lower the window, swiping the card under the electronic reader. It flashes green and the gate opens for us.
