He shrugged. “You could’ve been working with him.”
Hurt sank its fangs into my heart. This morning I’d let RJ do things to me that no one else ever had and he didn’t even trust me? “You thought I was a terrible person who would conspire against you and slept with me anyway?”
“Well, if it helps, I don’t believe there’s much of a chance you’re working with him anymore.” He gave me a crooked grin.
Shock sizzled through me, and I raised my hand to slap his face, but he captured my wrist. The gun balanced precariously on his thigh where he’d dropped it. I glared at him, and he kept his eyes focused forward. “You still think it’s a possibility?”
“The chances that someone will fuck me over areneverzero.”
I yanked my wrist away from him, and he drove the Roadster at a speed that had me clawing at the dashboard while I tried to force air into my lungs.
We got onto the road, and Van’s Porsche was ahead of us. It wasn’t going very fast because of the ruined tire. RJ probably knew more than me about these types of situations, but I was still angry with him. A green minivan pulled out in front of us, and RJ swore, dodging around them, going too fast for the snow and slush on the road.
All at once, RJ grabbed at his right leg and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. His head began to bob toward his chest, and I panicked. Thankfully the Roadster was slowing down.
“RJ! RJ, are you okay?”
“What?” he asked, shaking his head as if a bee buzzed inside his skull and he wanted to get it out. The car began to drift to the right and his head slumped forward while he tried to reach his leg again.
“RJ, you’re fucking driving!”
“What?” he asked again and sounded confused. “Fuck, this hurts.”
His foot must’ve slipped off the gas, but we were still moving forward, and he wasn’t stopping the Porsche.
“The brake! RJ, put your foot on the brake!” I pulled the emergency brake, but that didn’t stop us because the tires caught ice, and in the end, I turned the wheel to keep us on the road, but the minivan was in front of us at a stop sign. I had no choice except to spin the wheel. I tried to go around a massive pine tree in someone’s yard, but the Roadster clipped the trunk before slamming into a wooden fence that raised the front of the car into the air as momentum carried it halfway over.
I gasped as we jerked forward and finally stopped, but the airbags didn’t deploy. My chest ached from slamming against the seat belt. “It all happened so fast. Oh no,” I mumbled.
RJ had dropped his gun on the floor. I scrabbled down to pick it up, but then what? My fingers closed over the metal warmed by his skin. Someone was bound to call the cops and we couldn’t have this gun here when they showed up. What should I do?
“Fuck, are you okay? RJ! RJ, wake up!” I slapped lightly at his face and his head lolled back as his eyelids cracked open. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket. What should I do? He looked ridiculously cold and wasn’t dressed for the weather. I unbuckled my seat belt and took off my leather coat, then tossed it over him.
“Are you calling an ambulance?”
“No,” he said simply. “Go put that gun in the trunk.”
I stared at him, feeling stupid. “The trunk?”
RJ nodded. “Hello, I need some help. Accident. Shit happened. Need to get my boy out of here. I’m armed.” He mumbled a few other things I couldn’t quite make out to the person on the other end of the line.
The owner of the house connected to the lawn we’d torn up came out onto his porch. Thankfully his home was a small ranch, so he probably wouldn’t be one of those super entitled people, but there was no real way to tell how he would react. He didn’t approach the car. I shoved the gun onto my seat and got out to wave at him. He was a skinny old man in a blue robe with a tuft of gray hair. “I’m sorry. Our brakes seem to have locked up or something. We’re getting a tow truck and we’ll be happy to pay for any damages.”
The man nodded and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robe. “I should still get your car insurance,” he called in a craggy voice.
“In the glove compartment. Just give it to him.”
I handed RJ the gun, and he put it on the floor of the car again, even though that wouldn’t stop someone who was searching for reasons for a wreck from finding it. I snatched out the insurance card and went over to talk to the man with my bestcustomer servicesmile in place, and thankfully he was more concerned about his fence than anything. After reassuring him multiple times that I would pay for anything the insurance didn’t cover and giving him my phone number, he went back into his house with an “I hope you’re not hurt!”
By the time I turned around to go back to RJ, three other vehicles and a tow truck had arrived, which was insanely quick because I was certain I hadn’t spent more than ten minutes talking to the old man. RJ got out of the Roadster, hobbling across the snow, and went over to get into the back of a red Audi with blood dribbling along behind him, leaving a horrific trail. He waved for me to follow him, and I was so worried about him that I rushed; although, the second I was on the seat at his side I was furious all over again.
He knew who Van was and didn’t tell me. The fucking nerve.And he wasn’t exactly spilling any details now, either!
The warm air flowing around the car from the vents was nice and made me slightly less angry. The Audi pulled away from the crime scene. Yes, it was a motherfucking crime scene because that’s what it really was even if it appeared to be a harmless accident.
“Where are we going?” I asked the driver.
“The Courtesan Hotel.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. With his long beard and leather vest he seemed more like a biker than anything.
