What would I do if they stopped?
But they keep going, leading me away from the parties and the lights. Taking us somewhere private.
I hear fingers tap on screens and know Dylan and Aro are tattling on me. “Oh, come on, guys,” I tease under my breath. “It’s my turn.”
Dylan expels a sigh with a little growl, knowing she and Aro have done their fair share of stupid things. I might be too old for it now, but I guess that’s a matter of who I’m comparing myself against. My brothers still do stupid stuff all the time.
The Dodge vaults forward, and I press the gas.
“Faster,” Dylan urges.
“Pedestrians,” I retort.
I’ve got this, but I’m not going to risk hitting someone.
The Dodge turns, and I follow, the hair on my arms rising as I push the envelope. I don’t like speed, and I don’tlike recklessness, but every moment sinks me further into danger, and I feel like someone new. Anticipation of all the possibilities for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next starts to fill my chest, and I’m taking in more and more air.
The Dodge jets off, propelling forward, and the girls start yelling.
“Go, go!” Dylan screams.
Followed by Aro, “Don’t lose ’em!”
I punch the gas, rounding another turn. My tires screech as the Dodge cuts right, then left, and I skid around after it.
But when I turn again, it’s gone.
I gape. “What…?”
We coast down the street, all of us pinned to the windows and scanning the side streets. Where the hell did it go?
And where is Lucas? He would’ve followed me.
Approaching Jared’s shop, I see the lights are all off, no one in sight, and the fireworks have stopped. The black night presses against the car on all sides, and I barely breathe as I scan for any sign of movement. Or headlights.
Shit.
“What should we do?” Aro searches out her window, through the streaks of rain. “Go back to the parties?”
“It’s here,” I tell them.
I know it is.
I’ll drop them off if they really don’t want any part of this, but the Night Rider is around. They’re playing with me.
Aro’s phone buzzes, lighting up her face as she looks down. “Hawke,” she tells us. She opens it and reads the text, “‘Behind you.’”
She and Dylan jerk their heads over their shoulders, and I lift my eyes to the rearview mirror.
Shrouded in the dark night, far behind us, it’s there. No headlights. The old grill. The bent license plate. The blackened windows.
I hold back the thrill bubbling in my chest, whispering, “There you are.”
My scalp feels like the head on a glass of soda. A million delightful little pops as the chase ensues. I shift and press the gas, the car vaulting forward.
“Quinn?” Aro plants one hand on her door and the other on the back of my seat, holding on.
A trickle of sweat glides down my temple. I stop breathing, pressing the gas a little more.
