I was determined not to let you go ever again. But for that, I needed to impress you.
Get in.
My door opened before you even reached for the handle. Perhaps I came on a little too strong? You hesitated, just for a breath, but you weren’t put off. You slid into the driver’s seat, adjusting yourself into me. You belonged there. Belonged in me. I could feel from the way you pressed deep into my leather that you already knew that, too.
Unfortunately, we weren’t going to be alone on our maiden voyage. The dealer was there too, stuffing himself into the passenger seat. “Real collector’s piece,” he offered, wiping the sweat from his hairline. “The Fox Body Mustangs are getting more and more popular these days, nostalgic and all that. It’s a steal at twenty grand.”
I felt you hesitate at the price. You grip the wheel, hand hovering over the ignition. Uncertain, cautious.
Please, just turn the key.
I promise I’ll be worth it.
Chapter Two
Al
Just a test-drive. That was all this was. I didn’t have to sign anything. I didn’t have to commit to anything. The salesman was going to be disappointed, but he was the one who’d said, “Take it around the block, feel it out, see how she runs.”
Just a ride.
Twenty grand was twenty grand more than I could afford right now.
So, just a ride.
What use did I even have for a car like this anymore? My life had become a neat little loop between the academy and off-world assignments. Administrative work, budgets, curriculum reviews, disciplinary hearings, and endless paperwork swallowed the rest of my time. Responsibility had a way of quietly sanding a person down. Year after year. Not violently. Not dramatically. Just slowly, until the sharper parts of you, the reckless parts, were worn smooth and dull.
So, this wasn’t a relapse. This was nostalgia. A pleasure ride. Nothing else.
At least that’s what I was telling myself.
I pressed the clutch and turned the key, listening to the engine roar into life. I’d expected a hesitant startup or the embarrassed sputter of something neglected, but no; this was a deep, confident ignition, the kind that rolled up through the frame of the car like the growl of a beast as the Mustang’s V8 settled into a low, steady rumble.
Gods. That sound. The noise alone was enough to wake something in me, something long since buried by monotonous days of paperwork and all the tedium that came with being the head of an academy; the memories of racing from the cops in my cherry-red 1969 Mustang, her tires burning, her radio howling, the wind that whipped across her windscreen pushing her down low to the road as we sped like idiots through the streets of Texas together.
Those days were supposed to be behind me, but I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until that moment.
The vibration of the Mustang’s engine ran up through the steering column and into my palms. It felt alive in a way most modern vehicles simply didn’t; it was the kind of machine built when cars were family members, not just an oversized gadget of convenience.
The engine idled with that slow, muscular rhythm, asking me a question.
Shall we?
Something in my chest answered, something old. Something that had been buried under years of meetings and rules and polite expectations.
Twenty grand isn’t terrible.
I chased that thought away before it could take root.
One heist. One off-the-books job. The money doesn’t have to be clean.
I shut that thought down even harder.
That version of my life was over! Finished! Retired, along with the younger, more reckless man who used to chaseadrenaline. But sitting here, hands on the wheel, engine rumbling beneath me…
Something inside my ribs was stretching awake after a long sleep. Maybe it was the vibration of the engine. Maybe the smell of gasoline and warm metal. Or maybe it was simply a reminder of who I used to be. I rolled up my sleeves slowly, exposing the tattoos on my forearms, ink I usually kept hidden under the tidy uniform of academia.
It felt strangely ceremonial, like shedding a skin I’d grown tired of wearing.
