My hands clench on the wheel of their own volition. “I can count the number of fights I’ve won on one hand.”
“Then I guess it’s time to work on the second hand. Pick a parking garage you know the tunnels around. We’re finishing this on foot.”
“Shit.”
Chapter 29
Clara
RJ turns to me as we pull out of the neighborhood. “You’re going to have to be my eyes. I’ll drive. You look for a tail.”
“How do I look for a tail?”
“Pay attention to each car around us. The longer they stay nearby, the more likely they’re tailing us. And they can be in front of us, not just behind.”
“I can do that,” I say, grateful yet again to have a task. But in the dark, nearly all the cars look the same. “Maybe I should drive,” I mutter.
“You’re better at seeing details and danger.”
“I’m not so sure about that. My brain feels like it’s made of static.”
The cat in the duffel bag chooses this moment to yowl, his paws scrabbling at the zipper.
“It’s okay, Fluffington,” I say. “Trust me, this was the better option, as uncomfortable as it is.”
The bag continues to twitch, and I shoot RJ a panicked look. “Can cats open zippers?”
“No idea.”
“What would a panicked cat loose in a car do?”
“Nothing good.”
“Shit.”
A car tucks in front of us, and I’m pretty sure I saw it a block ago, too. “Watch that one,” I say, pointing.
“Got it.”
“Where are we heading?”
His lips twist in the shadows. “The dojo. It’s a place we’d go this time of night, and a duffel bag wouldn’t be a weird addition. The backpacks are odd, but we’re students.”
“A study slash fight session? In the middle of winter break?”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just normal enough to not set off any alarms. The goal is to get away, not to create a sustainable lie.”
I nod, watching the car that somehow keeps turning the same way we are, only before we do. It’s like we’re following them instead of the opposite.
We pull into the parking lot, the cat making enough of a ruckus that it’ll look like we’re hauling a sea creature if anyone looks closely.
“Act normal,” RJ says, and I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or himself.
“I’ll take the cat,” I say.
“No. It’s more natural for me to have the duffel. Just stay close. We can stay here for a bit; make it look like we’re going to spar. Maybe they’ll get bored enough for us to slip out the back.”
The car we followed here is parked a ways down the street, lights off, almost blending in with the night. But now that I’ve seen it, I can’t miss it.
