My boot slams into the back of the driver’s seat hard enough to make the whole cruiser jolt. “FUCK!”
Kade barely moves beside me. He’s coiled tight, jaw locked, and his eyes forward, “Stop drawing more attention.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I snarl, wrists straining uselessly against the cuffs. “She’s fucking out there still, and in case you didn’t notice, she wasn’t letting us go without a fight.”
“I know,” he says, not arguing, just absorbing it. Then, like this is the only thing that actually matters, he adds, “But there isn’t anything we can do from here that will help her. Not right now. Right now, we have to stay fucking calm and use our heads. We can still get out of this.”
“Oh yeah?” I snap without hesitation. “How the fuck do you think that’s happening?”
That lands between us heavier than the cuffs, because neither of us wants to give up, but both of us know just how fucked we are.
We sit there in silence, letting our rage fester for what feels like hours, when suddenly the driver’s door opens and someone gets in, starting the engine.
The cruiser lurches into motion, tires rolling over pavement without sirens, without urgency, which somehow makes it fucking worse. Like without even questioning us, they already think we’re done. Like they’ve got time.
I lean back, jaw clenched until it aches, staring at the cage bars. “If they find her. If they question her?—”
“They won’t,” Kade cuts in immediately keeping his tone low so our conversation doesn’t reach the front seat. “And even if they find her, there's no reason to hold her.”
Silence stretches, thick and dangerous. The car turns onto the highway, heading out of town. Kade and I both look at each other, confusion etched into our expressions.
“Wow,” a voice says lightly, almost amused, “you guys look like complete shit.”
Everything in me locks up.
Kade goes perfectly still beside me.
Slowly, I lift my head.
She’s in the front seat.
Wearing a stolen cop hat, brim tipped low, dark hair spilling out from underneath it, she looks at us through the bars with a grin that’s equal parts smug and electric, eyes bright with adrenaline and something reckless and fearless that makes my heart slam into my ribs.
For half a second, my brain refuses to catch up.
“What the fu?—”
She cuts me off by flicking something over her shoulder.
Metal clinks against plastic as it lands in my lap.
Cuff keys.
“And don’t fucking lose them,” she says sweetly. “I’ve got plans for them later.”
Kade stares at her like she’s a mirage, disbelief cracking his control just enough to show the fracture underneath. “You seriously came back?”
She snorts, adjusting the hat like it’s hers. “Please. You really thought I was going to let the two of you get hauled off without me?”
She checks the mirrors—left, right, and rear, calm as hell. Like she didn’t just steal a fucking police car with two wanted fugitives in the back seat.
I laugh.
I can’t stop it.
It tears out of me loud and unhinged, all the fear and pressure and rage detonating at once. “You are completely fucking insane.”
She beams, checking the mirror like she’s admiring her handiwork. “Not sure that means much coming from one of the local serial killers. Pot, meet blood-soaked kettle.”
