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His eyes narrowed, studying me.
Lo snorted. “They’re going to have a conniption fit at that.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked, but I knew that wasn’t what he really wanted to ask.
I nodded, sighing. “Not in the house. Outside.”
Brett turned to Lo. “They can walk through my place, see my system. I talked to Howard earlier. My place is safe.”
She looked ready to argue but saw my face and swallowed the protest. “Okay.” She stepped back. “I’ll tell them. Is it safe to send them out to talk to you, or are you two going to keep necking like you’re teenagers?”
Brett chuckled.
I glared.
She noted my expression, the ends of her mouth turning up in a slight grin as she went back inside.
“I want to leave.”
Brett’s eyebrows rose. “Let’s wait and talk to them. We can get a police escort to my place. Being safe isn’t—”
No! I felt heat rush through me.
He paused, seeing my reaction. “What’s going on?”
I shook my head, frustration settling in my chest. I knew what I should do. All the proper steps, knew what they’d say, knew their worries were valid. I’d lived this already. But there was a restlessness inside me now, and I was suddenly, so madly, so furiously sick of being this way.
Of being scared. Of hiding.
Of not living.
Of not being in the sunlight. Brett brought me the sunshine.
I just wanted to feel that warmth, his warmth.
What would that world feel like?
If I’d not gone to Jojo’s?
If my mom hadn’t—I couldn’t go there.
“Just go,” I whispered. “Please.”
The screen door opened again. The Feds were coming out.
Brett saw something on my face and clipped his head in a nod. He turned and yelled through his window, “I’ll text you my address. We can talk there.”
The first agent frowned. “Wha—”
Brett threw his truck in reverse, gunning the engine and swinging the front around like a drag racer, handling it as if he’d done this a million times before. He shifted gears, slammed down on the accelerator, and we were racing down the driveway.
A sense of freedom swept over me—the speed, his carefree handling of the truck, the wind from his window still open. It was irrational, but in that moment, it was a morsel of food after a lifetime of starvation.
A thrill sparked through me.
Brett was waking me up, in more ways than one.
We came to the road, and as if he was a pro, he braked and swung his end to the left. Almost without stopping, we zoomed straight ahead. We were out of sight before any headlights came following us on the driveway.
