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A little grin peeks out on Gemma’s lips. “This is crazy.”
“I know.”
“But fun,” she admits.
“I know.”
I turn another bend, narrowly avoiding crashing into a light pole. Life just isn’t fun unless you’re risking it. That’s my motto.
Whenever I pick up speed, so does the cop. When I turn a corner, she follows. When I zip side to side, the cop repeats the motion. “She’s not letting up, is she?” I murmur.
“No, she isn’t. You might have to stop, Viktor. This is fun, but I don’t want to hurt someone.”
I groan, my head hitting the headrest. “Gemma, if I worried about every innocent person out there, I’d go mad. You can’t worry what other people think of you. You just have to focus on yourself and your own fun.”
“You really believe that?”
“I do.”
“Then what about me?” She shifts in her seat, leaning back, a frown on her face. “Would you be upset if I got hurt?”
Would I care, then?
You know what, I would.
I might tease death all the time, but I don’t really want Gemma to die. Where would be the fun in that? I flash her smile. “I’d probably cry for a few minutes if you died. Then I’d move on. No use wasting my time on something I can’t change.”
She huffs with an eye roll. “Great. Nice to know how much you care.”
That’s just the thing. I do care. But for some reason, I just can’t say it seriously.
While I’m distracted thinking about how I feel about Gemma, I don’t notice the sudden bend ahead of us.
“Viktor!” Gemma screeches.
I look up and slam on my breaks, the car skidding to a halt, narrowly avoiding hitting the wall of rock. For a moment, everything is silent. Then the loud sound of the siren comes back into focus.
Gemma is breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling fast. I, of course, can’t help but notice. The adrenaline pumping through me makes me want to fuck Gemma and say screw it to anything else.
The cop is at my door before I can do anything. It’s a woman, probably in her thirties, with blonde hair similar to Gemma’s. I could speed away, but then she’d just chase me again, so I decide to have some fun with this cop.
“Can I help you, officer?” I put on my most endearing innocent expression after rolling down the window.
By her annoyed expression, she’s not buying it. “Do you know how fast you were going? You could have hurt someone.” She nods at Gemma. “You could have hurt her.”
“Oh, that’s just my wife. She’s as crazy as I am.”
Gemma swats my arm. “I am not.” She leans forward, addressing the officer. “I’m not crazy like he is, trust me.”
“Uh-uh. I don’t really care. You weren’t the one driving. He was.” She sets her eyes on me. “License and registration.”
I dig into the glovebox before handing the paper over. She reads it and walks back to her car.
“What’s she doing?” Gemma asks.
The cop is back a moment later, an even more annoyed expression on her face. “Sir, this car was registered stolen. So, if you could step out of the car and put your hands above your head.”
Right. I sort of forgot that I stole this car. I have a habit of doing a lot of bad things, so they just sort of get mixed up in my brain.
