by Vera Hollins
“That’s part of the race. The track ends there, but there’s still a mile to go until the finish line.”
“And where’s that?”
“Near Somers’s abandoned distillery.”
“Really, now?” That distillery was a godforsaken place. It was once Somers’s biggest distillery, but a fire had reduced half of it to ashes, and no one had bothered to restore it. It was perfect for illegal racing and other activities.
I looked behind us again. Ryder was too far back, along with the other drivers, and the distillery was coming into view. Masen shifted into sixth gear and pressed the gas. He was definitely winning, and I finally allowed myself to enjoy this, getting more excited with each second.
I grinned at him. “Who would’ve thought? You’re actually going to win this!”
He gave me the cutest smile, looking like a kid who was about to get his favorite toy. “Get ready, because I’m taking you to the most expensive restaurant in town to celebrate this.” He turned onto the road that led to the distillery. I could see a small crowd waiting at the finish line.
My grin grew larger. “Only if you buy a helicopter and come to pick me up in it. I wanna go there in style.”
He chuckled. “Sure thing. Let me just buy a limo first that will drive you to the helicopter.”
“Of course! But don’t forget a red carpet—” My words died on my lips.
The crowd started to scatter in every direction. Three police SUVs with their emergency lights on drove into view.
And they were heading straight for us.
Masen stepped on the brake. “Shit!”
“Talk about the worst timing of the century.” Panic took control of my voice.
Masen switched into reverse and hit the gas. He spun the car around and shifted into first gear and then second and third, stepping on the gas.
“Fucking hell,” he shouted, passing by Ryder, who started braking just now. A glance in my side-view mirror showed me two SUVs surrounding him and preventing him from escaping.
I didn’t have time to gloat that he was done for, because two police SUVs were closing in on us, one appearing in front of us, another materializing to the right, so Masen’s only option was to make a sharp turn to the left. The sound of braking and engine rumbling exploded through the air as he drove across the meadow with the cops hot on our heels. The car skidded to the side and Masen yanked the wheel to the left, struggling to maintain control.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“There’s a road!” I pointed at it. “Go there! Fast!”
The car stopped sliding long enough for Masen to be able to accelerate and reach the road before the cops could catch up to us, and then we gained speed on the concrete.
I looked behind us. “How did they find out?”
“Someone must have snitched on us. How else would they have known about that distillery?” He cursed. “They had to show up now. I was so close to winning. So fucking close.”
I grabbed the seat as he took an abrupt turn to the right into a residential area. “Let’s focus on getting through this first, okay? We’ll cry over spilled milk later.”
I had no idea how we’d get through this with the three cars following us, and I didn’t doubt there would be more to come, but we could rely on the alleys to pull us out of this.
“Okay, I know Somers like the back of my hand, so I’m going to tell you where to go. Trust me on this.”
He didn’t answer, but when I looked at him, he gave me a quick glance loaded with emotion.
“I trust you,” he said quietly as he returned his attention to the road, and I knew he meant much more than just this. My chest inflated with emotions, even though it was absolutely the worst time to get mushy.
I nodded and tore my gaze away from him. We reached a small intersection.
“Turn left.”
He did. The police were closing in on us, and the drumming of my heart grew louder in my ears, along with the police sirens.
“Step on that gas!”
“I am!”
He swerved to the left and overtook a car, almost hitting a second car that cut into our lane when it started passing another vehicle. The force of braking sent me forward in my seat, and the seatbelt cut into me.
Masen yanked the wheel to the left, out of road. “Shit!” he exclaimed and drove up onto the sidewalk. He veered back into the road as he passed the slower cars and accelerated. The police got caught up behind those cars, which allowed us to gain more distance away from them.
“Okay, you’ll turn left around this corner and then immediately right.”
He rounded the corner, which hid us long enough for him to turn right and drive into a long alley between two buildings that had seen better days—meaning the area was vastly unpopulated and left to deterioration. It was far away from CCTVs or curious wanderers at this time of night. He increased the speed, passing too close to dumpsters, stacked wooden pallets, and drain pipes.
“Now turn right,” I said, and he veered to the right, entering another alley before the cops had reached the last one. “Left again.”
He made another quick turn that led us deeper into the labyrinth of passages that had been like a second home to Steven’s addict friends, giving them the privacy to destroy their lives one fix at a time. I turned in my seat to look behind us and let out a relieved sigh. No one was following us. But I wouldn’t put it past them to wait for us on the other side.
“Where to now?” he asked.
“Now, you stop.”
He frowned at me. “What?”
“I said, stop!” He hit the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. “Follow me.”
I snapped off my seatbelt and jumped out of the car. My feet hit the pavement running as I rushed for a nearby narrow passageway, and then another. They wouldn’t know in time which building we’d run to. At least there was one bright spot—Masen had been driving Ryder’s car, so the car’s license plate would lead the police to Ryder. Oops.
“Where are we going?” Masen asked from behind me.
“These buildings are connected. So, we’ll come out on the other side and go through another neighborhood until we get them off our trail.”
I went into the five-story building through the back door and climbed the stairs. I had to pinch my nose shut because the stench of piss covering the floors and walls was too much.
“It’s like animals are living here and not people. Have they not heard of using the toilet?” I said. I could almost hear the cops behind us, and each new sound made me more edgy.
“You’re handling this awfully well,” Masen said, breathing heavily as we raced up the stairs. We reached the top floor and rushed down a narrow corridor that was home to an unbearable stench, offensive graffiti, and more garbage than one might find in the average dumpster.
“If you want to say I’m a pro at running from the cops, then, yeah, you’re right. I’m the master of dealing with them. A true Bonnie to your Clyde.”
“If we’re Bonnie and Clyde, we’re in even deeper shit than I thought. I don’t want to get killed.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that; I was afraid, because I had no clue what we were going to do if this didn’t work. We were in deep shit. I’d always thought Steven would be the one to run afoul of the law, but here I was, a few steps and minutes away from my ticket to prison.
The corridor stretched between a few buildings, but when we reached the last one and I tried to open the door to enter it, it was locked.
“Now, this is wonderful.” I slammed my hand against the metal.
Masen rattled the handle and pushed against the door. “Fuck!” He kicked the door and tried the handle again, but the door wouldn’t give. He shook his head. “Come on. We don’t have much time.” He grabbed my hand, and we went back down the stairs.
I glanced at our joined hands. My blood hummed. I almost stumbled trying to keep up with him. I was sweating profusely and my chest heaved as I tried to ta
ke as much air into my lungs as possible.
The police could be waiting for us down there. There could be a whole team of them and we wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it. But it was a risk we had to take because I doubted the folks here would be welcoming to two teenage fugitives.
Masen’s steps became slow and cautious as we neared the front door. The darkness outside revealed no one waiting for us. He let go of my hand and peered outside, looking left and right. “The coast is clear.”
He took my hand again and pulled me out onto the dark and quiet street. Most of the streetlights didn’t work, allowing us to be out of sight, but that didn’t calm the erratic hammering of my heart. We slunk our way alongside the buildings, keeping to shadows as we moved toward the next block, but in order to reach it, we’d have to cross the intersection that would leave us completely exposed.
“Remind me to beat your ass the next time you insist on stupid racing.” I looked all around us, checking for any street cameras or people. “This way.” I led the way across the street.
Sirens in the distance blasted through the silent air, and I quickened my pace, expecting the police to show up at any moment. And they did, their lights blinding as they neared the intersection, and I pulled Masen behind the nearest shrub next to the sidewalk, ending up on top of him as we tripped and collapsed on the ground.
“Duck,” he told me and wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing his other hand against the back of my head.
I didn’t have time to think about how close we were to each other with our hearts beating wildly as one, because the cars rushed right beside us. Their sirens created an almost unbearable noise. I closed my eyes and dug my fingers into his rigid shoulders. Don’t catch us, don’t catch us, don’t catch us . . .
Masen’s arms wrapped more tightly around me, and I could almost sense the cops popping up right above us . . . I shuddered.
“It’s going to be okay, gorgeous,” he said into my ear as he caressed my head over my hat, sending warmth through my cold limbs. His body molded too well against mine, and I was more than aware of each inch of him pressed against me. “We’ll get through this.”
“Oh yeah? I didn’t know you were a prophet now, too,” I scoffed, but the truth was, I felt safe. I’d been alone for so long that his words should’ve felt empty, but they didn’t. They felt reassuring.
I raised my head when the last of the cars had zoomed by. They went around the corner, and the sounds of their sirens gradually faded into the distance, but I wouldn’t put it past the cops on foot to swarm this place, so we had to move fast.
“Let’s go.” I jumped to my feet and grabbed his hand, helping him stand. I crouched low and moved along the bushes. “My old house is twenty minutes away from here.”
We added trespassing to the list of laws we’d broken tonight as we headed across people’s back yards, moving as covertly as possible. I didn’t stop looking for cameras and people, expecting someone to catch us at any moment, but the night was quiet and the streets were deserted; it was just a regular Sunday night.
What was supposed to take twenty minutes ended up taking forty because we were constantly watching for the cops or anyone following us as we moved through the shadows and dark alleys. I exhaled heavily when we reached my house, feeling exhausted but immensely relieved. We’d done it. We’d escaped them.
We stopped on the porch. I bent, placing my hands on my knees as I worked to slow my breathing. Exhaustion had made my limbs heavier than usual.
“Is there a way for the police to connect us to that race?” I asked.
Masen turned to the side, and his jaw clenched. His chest rose and fell quickly. His shirt was sweat-drenched, just like mine. “Only if they catch someone who’ll sing. But even then, they wouldn’t snitch.”
“How can you be so sure about that?”
“Because they won’t risk someone going after them in prison. No one likes snitches.”
I nodded and took off my gloves and cap. My hair was plastered against my head, soaked with sweat. “I’ll go check where Dad is. He sleeps at his office sometimes, so maybe he’s not home.”
“Sure.” He leaned against the railing and crossed his ankles and arms over his chest as his gaze wandered off into the distance.
I took my key chain out of my pocket and let myself into the house, preparing myself for the onslaught of grief and bittersweet memories. The house was completely dark and quiet, and as I went from the living room to the kitchen and Dad’s home office, I thought about Steven and how entertained he would’ve been if he could see me now. He would’ve ragged on me about this night for the rest of my life.
I took a shuddering breath and wiped away the sweat that slid down my temples. My shirt clung to my back, and I had to peel it away from my skin. I looked into Dad’s office. It was empty. I headed up the stairs to check his bedroom, hoping this was one of those nights he’d forgotten he had a real house and bed waiting for him. I’d told my mom I would sleep at Jess’s place tonight, and I wanted to avoid unnecessary explanations as to why I was here instead, with a guy, no less.
I opened the door to his bedroom as quietly as possible, making sure not to make a sound, and peered through the darkness. My eyes had already adjusted to the dark, so I could clearly see his bed was made and empty. He wasn’t home.
Any other time, I would feel bitter about him being so obsessed with his job, but right now, it was perfect.
I rushed down the stairs and jumped out onto the porch. “Dad’s not home.” I threw Masen a celebratory grin, but then I noticed his expression. He stood in the same spot, his posture unchanged. His face was taut as he stared at the ground. “What’s wrong?”
A muscle in his jaw clenched. He met my gaze. “They had to show up tonight of all nights. I would’ve won. That money would’ve been mine if only those shitheads hadn’t ruined everything. I just needed a little more time. That’s all.”
Anger radiated off him in thick waves. I leaned against the railing next to him, crossing my arms over my chest in rising anger.
“Really? We could’ve ended up in jail or worse tonight, and you can only think about that money?”
He took off his gloves in two jerky moves and shoved them into his jeans pockets. “You know why that money was so important to me.”
“I know, but you should be grateful we managed to get out of that in one piece. How can’t you see that? Everything about that race screamed ‘bad.’ Maybe this is for the best.”
Masen gripped the railing behind him with both hands. “How is this for the best? I have no clue what to do now. Eli’s bills won’t wait for me to figure this shit out.”
“We already talked about this. I told you I have the money you need. So, stop being so stubborn and take it.”
“I can’t!” He glared at me. “There’s something called pride! Google it.”
“There’s also something called stupidity! You don’t have to google that because you have a PhD in it!”
Masen’s gaze grew darker as we stared each other down. I clenched my hands and shook my head. I hated how stubborn he was. He and I could tie for the gold medal for stubbornness.
“Look, I understand why you won’t accept my help. I really do. I’m the first to refuse anyone’s help because I like relying only on myself. You’re the same way, because you’ve been fending for yourself for so long, I’m not even sure you remember what it feels like to have someone take care of you for a change.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His expression told me everything I needed to know.
I turned to face him and gave him an earnest look. “But I want to help you because I care about you, you idiot. I care about Eli. I don’t want to see you struggle when the solution is right at your fingertips. And there’s no one who deserves that money more than Eli. Think about his future. You’ll be able to pay off all his expenses and get him into college.”
It was unusual how easily these words fell from
my lips. Me—the person who had always kept her true feelings hidden behind a thick barrier—now I was opening up to Masen more and more, and it felt good.
“You won’t be any less of a man if you accept my help, just so you know.”
He faced me. He clenched and unclenched his jaw and took a few steps away from the railing, only to run his hands down his face and come back. His brows pinched together. “You aren’t playing fair.”
I smiled. “I know. But when have I ever played fair?”
He held my gaze, ramming these ridiculously addictive feelings I felt deeper into me, and I realized how much I longed for him. How fast I was falling for him.
I grew hot. I licked my lips. “Here, if it will make you feel better, you can pay me off by being my slave forever and ever.”
Something shifted in his gaze, and he took a step closer to me. He formed a slow grin. “Does this mean you want me for the rest of your life?”
His question stole the oxygen from my lungs. He’d said this jokingly, but I sensed something more to it, and tension hung thick in the air. He didn’t look away from me for a second, and it felt as if he knew exactly how I felt about him—how easily he was taking more and more of my heart.
I glanced away. “Yeah, well . . . don’t read too much into that. First, you’ll be on boyfriend probation for, let’s say, ten days, and then we can do that for a year or more, and then after that, I’ll see if I want you forever.” Only after I’d said it did I realize I’d said that word of my own volition. Boyfriend. Shit. I was in way too deep.
He cupped my chin and ran his thumb over my lower lip. He was smirking. “Is that an offer?”
“More like a warning.”
His smirk grew wider. He pushed a strand of my hair aside and rested his hand against my neck, keeping his thumb at the edge of my mouth. “I’m not that easily intimidated.”
“I know. I wouldn’t even want you if you were. After all, it takes a person who likes danger to handle someone like me.”
“Ditto. That’s why we’re so good for each other, I guess.”
I ran my finger over his jaw, marveling at how chiseled it was. “What changed? Why do you trust me?”