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I instantly smile at his stupidity.
“Tristan should be out of the hospital in a week or so, and until then, we’ll just keep moving from state to state. Once we’re able to make contact back home, we’ll see what’s going on and decide what to do next. And if you still want to see your mom, we’ll head to Canada.”
He’s so organized, so efficient, and it makes me think he’s done this before.I’m determined to get to the bottom of Quinn’s past because he has set me free from my demons. And I intend to do the same for him.
“Okay, so it’s settled. We keep moving,” he says, rubbing my cheek when I hesitate.
“Okay.” I nod, leaning into his hand. “But first things first…”
Quinn looks at me, waiting for me to continue.
“I need to steal us a hot-ass car.”
After dropping our keys off at the reception desk, we slip into the night, hoods donned, skulking the streets to find a mode of transportation for our infamous road trip.
I huddle close to Quinn, my hands bundled into my sweater pockets with my head bowed, hair covering my face.
“You okay?” Quinn whispers, shielding my body with his from the early morning chill.
“Yeah,” I reply, shivering from the cold and the situation we find ourselves in.
I’ve stolen heaps of cars before. My first offense was when I was eleven, and it was for grand theft auto, but doing it now, here, seems so criminal.In a town where it’s clear its inhabitants work hard for a living, it feels so wrong to steal someone’s car, but we’re desperate.
“What’s the matter, Red?”Quinn asks, tightening his hold around my waist.
“I feel guilty,” I confess. “I really don’t want to steal some hard-working citizen’s car.”
“I know.” Quinn sighs, kissing my head.“But what other choice do we have?”
“Maybe we could leave them an IOU note,” I suggest stupidly, as where would we leave the note?
Quinn chuckles, planting another kiss on my head.“Or we could just steal…that.”
I see it as soon as he does, and we both stop dead in our tracks, eyeing the big, obnoxious black GMC 4X4 pickup truck with the license plate numberILVVAG.
Quinn takes my hand, and we cross the desolate road, ready to do some breaking and entering.Thankfully, the truck is parked in a darkened patch, away from prying eyes. Not that anyone is awake so early on aSunday morning.
Quinn looks the professional, peering from left to right before approaching the vehicle while I lag close behind.As I peer over his shoulder and into the truck, I bless the irony of life as I see a varsity jacket thrown onto the back seat.
But it’s not justavarsity jacket. It’sthevarsity jacket that belonged to the jerk in the bar. Quinn also sees it and turns to me with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Oh, this just got a whole lot more fun.”He cracks his knuckles and takes one more look around, ensuring the coast is clear.
It is.
He drops into a crouch, unthreading his bootlace, and pulls the lace out through the eyelets quickly. As he has the long lace in his hands, he adeptly ties a slipknot in the middle of it and stands, swiftly placing the string at the top, right corner of the car door. I watch in awe as he begins working the string, sliding it back and forth until the slipknot is inside the car. He uses an expert side-to-side pulling motion to loop the slipknot around the lock, pulling it tight. As he pulls up on the string, the lock pops up, and he’s in.
He’s done this in less than fifteen seconds.
As I peer around, keeping a lookout while Quinn proficiently hot-wires the truck in under a minute, I know he’s done this before.
As the engine roars to life, I run to the passenger side. Quinn unlocks my door, and I leap into the cabin with Lucky jumping onto my lap. I hold the grab handle as Quinn puts the truck into drive and tears down the street, the black truck blending into the shadowy night.
What is it about a man who can handle a truck that I find so attractive?
However, as I look at Quinn focusing on the road, his eyes studying the scenery before him with his long hair catching in the wind, I know it’s all Quinn.
“Where to now?”
