“I can’t outrun a Corvette,” I informed him.
“Cut through the park!”
“Shit. We’re gonna get arrested.” The van flew over the sidewalk with a bang and landed on the grass. “Just so you know, the local news just loves car chases. They even have police helicopters with that infrared technology.”
All the weapons in the back were rattling around as we sped through the park. I glanced at Christian, who was on his phone.
“Wyatt, I need you to ring your contact with the police. The emergency department. Tell him to ignore any calls involving a red car and a black van on a citywide chase. … One more word and I’ll drain you. Just do it.”
I nearly struck a man reading a newspaper on a park bench before jerking the wheel to the right. We went careening toward a pond, ducks flapping out of the way in a frenzied panic. I quickly turned before we ended up submerged in water.
Christian glanced in the back of the van. The boxes were making a racket, but nothing had spilled open. “Take a right,” he said tersely, referring to the road up ahead.
“No.”
“Shut your gob and do as I say.”
“That goes right to the Bricks. Do you want to add a new level of fuckery to this situation?”
“Well, you can’t go left. The coppers are down that way.”
I couldn’t go straight either. That was nothing but a long row of buildings.
Or could I?
“Let’s have some fun,” I said in a singsong voice.
I scanned the street left and right before plowing straight ahead and snapping the wooden gate of an indoor parking garage. The tires squealed on the smooth surface as I sped up a ramp and turned left, following the arrows painted on the ground.
Level one.
Level two.
Level three.
The Corvette stayed on our ass as we ascended the garage.
Christian wiped his pants as if there were something on them, a sure sign he was irritated. “You’re gonna trap us at the top with no escape.”
“I work best under pressure.”
The car engine behind us throttled, and I weaved, afraid he might try to jump ahead and block me.
I leaned into a turn. “Any other cars back there?”
Christian gripped the door. “Just the one.”
When I reached level eight, we sailed onto the roof.
“What’s your plan, Miss Black?”
I parked the van at the far side and left the keys swinging in the ignition. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have special talents when it comes to baiting men.”
“Aye, that you do.”
Christian and I hopped out at the same time to face the car speeding up behind us. The sticker on the windshield was a Breed mark, one I often saw on the doors and windows of Breed establishments. Rarely had I seen them on someone’s car, but the driver’s ego didn’t surprise me.
I sauntered up, Christian by my side.
