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“Mac had to jump in the car with her. Now they’ve got a tail.”
“Circle back,” I demand, fishing my phone out of the pants I wear that are too fucking tight for this shit. Dialing my brother, I have the thing to my ear before Ian responds.
“Already on it, Rex.” The car whips left again, taking us in a giant circle. Engine roaring to life, we propel forward as the call rings out.
“Shit.”I smash buttons with shaky thumbs and try to call again. “C’mon, turd munch. Fucking answer.”
“Hey, dick.” Relief washes over me at the sound of his voice, calm as ever, filling the line.
“Hey, prick,” I respond, the car whipping around another corner, wheels squealing in protest of the move. “Is she good?”
I need to hear it.
“Seriously? You’re not going to ask me at all?” I hear his exaggerated huff over the line. “Thanks, bro. I guess I’m fucking good.”
“Great, smartass. I know that twin shit works, now how about Aria?” I can feel his nerves, minor as they are, but he’s fine enough. Just like me.
“All good here,” Mac answers, a seriousness to his tone that eases the edge. I release the death grip I had on the phone along with a breath. “Routine shit, bro.”
“Thank fuck.” I whisper into the speaker. “Let me talk to her.”
“Not a good call.” Mac cuts in, peaking confusion and a little bit of a twinge in my chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I growl, my blood reaching a high temp at the anger that incites.
I know he’s not keeping her from me, so why does it feel like that?
“Nothing, bro. Just that there’s a lot of emotion here.” His voice carries gently over the line as I see the back of his SUV come into view, a minivan wedged firmly in the ass.
No pun intended.
“Let me talk to her.” Firmly, clearly, I need to talk to her. She wouldn’t be where she is unless it were for me and I feel responsible.
I should have left it alone.
The thought creeps in, tearing my chest into a million pieces, but it’s too late now. I asked her here. And I’m watching on as a pap gets way too close to the people that I love most.
I’m not ok with that.
“Hold on,” I tell my brother as I unsnap my seatbelt and scoot to the passenger window, engaging the button to roll the tinted glass out of my way.
“Rex!” Ian says my name like a reprimand but gets my intention and maneuvers until the pap vehicles—that’s right, as we get closer, I realize it’s more than one boxing them in—are nearly trading paint with our SUV.
Lugh says shit into his mic that I don’t catch, but I don’t stop. As soon as the window is no longer blocking out the outside world, I lean with my hair whipping in the wind until I can be seen.
On full display, I raise both middle fingers to the driver of a passenger car who snaps a photo with a camera that’s bigger than his head.
Dissatisfied, Ian swerves, shifting the car in a maneuver that has the driver backing off enough for us to squeeze between Mac and the minivan.
It barely keeps up, but the person inside is hell-bent on pushing the engine of the damn minivan to the limit and taps the bumper of our SUV.
“Dammit,” Lugh rolls down his window, leaning out enough to try and ward off the final danger. “Piss off!” He yells and waves them off.
They’re persistent as always.
“Rex.” Ian peeks back at me. “You good?”
I nod, take the cue, and lean until the upper half of my body is hanging outside of the window. Arms waving like a total dick, hair flying about like I’m in a tornado, the minivan veers to get the shot of me in time for Ian to slam the breaks.
