The garage door is barely open as he drives out. I run past a newer truck and opt for the closest vehicle that I know I can hot-wire fast.
“Get in,” I instruct Ivy as I work on starting the motor. She’s no sooner in the passenger seat when the main lights in the garage flip on.
“Goddamnit.” I almost have the car started when I catch a glimpse of the security guard standing just outside the garage, but more concerning is the man in a robe who has a pistol pointed our way.
A loud shot rings out, followed by metal clanking. Yep. Shoot first. Ask questions later. He’s probably more fearful if he’s made an enemy out of the Keepers. And clearly, he has since we’re stealing his prized possessions.
Just as I get the car started. I see Garrett and Remy duck into the side door of the garage. I don’t wait to see their fate. I shift into gear, the wheels spinning on the smooth concrete, before we soar out of the bay.
Another guard is in the driveway, his weapon drawn and pointed straight at us.
Reaching over, I force Ivy to the floorboard, “Stay down.”
Then return my hands to the steering wheel and hold on tight as I press the accelerator to the floor. The guard isn’t backing down, and neither will I. He fires off three shots. Each one hits the windshield, glass spidering around the holes, but the windshield stays intact.
And I stay on course. There’s no chance I’ll concede. We’re in too deep; we’re getting out no matter who we have to go through. And the guy is a shitty shot because an additional two shots miss as I continue barreling towards him until he jumps out of the path at the last second.
Ivy rotates, peeking out the rear window. “You almost killed him.”
“He almost killed us.”
“True.” There’s a little panic in her voice as she turns back and examines the windshield before I feel her eyes raking over me.
“No need to worry. I’m okay, sweetheart.”
She flops back against the seat. “Pity. I could’ve been done with this bullshit if he wasn’t such a terrible shot.”
“You’d miss me.”
She ignores me.
“Probably sit at home and cry because you’d be so miserable and worn-out with your pitiful life.”
She stays turned away. “I need to get my car. Stop and let me out now.”
“We’ll come back for it. We have to get to the cemetery.” When she finally glares at me, she looks even more pissed than usual, so I add, “If you would’ve listened and rode with me, it wouldn’t be an issue.”
That’s all it takes for her to turn away again with a few choice words mumbled under her breath. After that, we ride in silence as I consider the price tag of the vehicle we’re driving. The car Micah is driving is a rarity among collectors, and this one would cost a good chunk of change. It’s clear the senator has funds coming from more than his political salary, because there’s no way he could afford these. Without a doubt, his lifestyle was funded or at least cushioned by the society. Old money that costs more than it’s worth because they take your soul.
27
IVY
“Oh my God. He is such an ass,” Brooke hollers over her shoulder as she drops into the chair beside me. “A big, stupid ass.”
It’s clear that Micah is the object of her hatred, and I’m sure he did something to warrant her ire, but my head throbs every time she shouts. “Please stop yelling.”
I rub my temples as I shut my eyes, then I feel the table shift. When I look up, Luca is in the chair beside me.
My headache just got worse.
“I have some aspirin.” Brooke pulls a bottle from her purse. “Don’t let my mom see. She gets all principal-ly on me when I break the rules ‘Because we are supposed to hold ourselves to a higher standard than others’,” she mocks what I’m sure she’s been told a few times from the sound of it.
I quickly swallow down a few pills before passing the bottle back to her.
“Long night?” Luca asks.
The answer is yes. But I won’t dignify him with that answer and just say, “Migraine from dealing with jackasses.”
