Ozzy.
Lorenzo Black.
I can’t help but hope it’s Oz, but I don’t want anything to happen to Cairo’s dad either.
“Give me your gun,” I order, sliding my hand free of Levi’s and extending my palm for his weapon. “And pull up to the driver’s side like you’re going to pass them. I’ll see if I can get a hit on the driver.”
“Keep your seatbelt on,” Levi replies evenly. “If I need to throw the brakes on, I don’t need you going through the windshield.”
His Glock is in my grasp in the next second as he hits the accelerator and moves over into the left lane.
He’s careful not to barrel down the road, easing up on them even if he’s going over the speed limit when he begins to line up with the driver’s door.
“Three shots,” Levi says. “That’s all you get. We need to preserve that ammo if we need it.”
Leaning over to roll my window down, I don’t bother to get my breathing under control. My only mission is hitting my shot and taking down the SUV so we can get whomever out of it.
And we’re not going to have a lot of time.
My brain attempts to settle on my target as I glance over at the adjoining vehicle.
The driver doesn’t look at me, but that doesn’t mean whoever is in the backseat isn’t.
Not the problem. Take out the driver.
Extending my arm, Levi gives me the alignment I need not to miss.
The first bullet spiderwebs the window before the driver hits the gas.
My second shot busts through but doesn’t do any damage.
My third one, though, gets him before the car takes a sharp left turn and spins. Levi taps the brakes and swerves to the right, getting out of the way of the SUV that’s now in our lane and whipping the Roadrunner around.
I see the black doors begin to pop open before Levi’s foot is on the gas again, aimed right at the passenger side to take the man there out.
“When are you getting the rest of your tattoo done?”
Levi’s question doesn’t register right away because…why the hell would that be a conversation we’d have right now?
However, I remember shit like this doesn’t faze him, and he asks the weirdest shit at the most inopportune moments.
Like the time he told me he beat the shit out of Tyler Buntone in high school because he said he was going to take my virginity and smear my blood all over the locker room walls.
We were in the middle of knocking up a liquor store, and he mentioned it after he demanded the cashier to hand us all the cash.
Or the time Levi admitted he didn’t think he was going to graduate high school because he was caught fucking two blondes in one of the science labs.
Information I didn’t want or need to know when you’re in the middle of fucking up one of Sherriff Muncy’s patrol cars when he was harassing Dad, but, you know, that’s Levi for you.
Always talking at the stupidest moments about things that have nothing to do with the moment.
“Haven’t thought about it,” I admit, the moment the front of Marshall’s poor Roadrunner hit the door and pinches the spot Levi was aiming for. “Soon.”
“Do it ASAP for me,” my best friend utters as he turns the wheel so sharply that the back tires squeal in protest at the fast angle and abrupt change of direction. “I like my ink on your skin.”
Levi really doesn’t know what he does to me when he says shit like that.
Honestly.
