“Iknowit was him—and who cares how he did it!” She scowls. “He wants to play hard? No problem, baby.”
She’s seething, and for a minute I’m scared she’s planning on pulling a pileup out of spite. My eyes widen as we careen dangerously close to the Dodge.
“Amy, we’re gonna…”
I brace myself for a collision, but she slams her foot down, and we skid left, the car swerving down a narrow passageway as we veer off-road. My stomach is flip-flopping all over the place.
That was literally a blur—it all happened so fast, I’m not sure Tyler saw us make a detour. He just carried on straight ahead, and now that the Dodge’s taillights have disappeared from sight, panic flutters at my edges.
“Is this shortcut a good idea?”
“Fingers crossed.”
“Sharing is caring, Amy!”
My sentence ends in a gasp—we just went sailing right over a major intersection without missing a beat.
“You’re insane!”
“The CB!” Amy barks, her eyes still latched on the road. “Get me the CB!”
I bring the transmitter to her lips and flick the switch.
“Hitman,” she yells. “Change of plan, I’m goingunderground. Just passed Seventh and Union. Cripps, clear the way. Bayboy, cover the entrance. I’ll be here. Over.”
A voice comes crackling over the airwaves. “Yes, ma’am. Getting pretty hard for it here, Hitman!”
“Don’t blow your load, Cripps. Just get it done.”
The guy starts whimpering down the line. Amy’s as impassive as ever, her jaw set like our lives depend on this.
Which they kinda do, considering how fast we’re going.
I have no idea how we’re speeding through town like this without anyone even raising an eyebrow. The cops are nowhere to be seen, either. How exactly is “Cripps” supposed to “clear the way”? I’m not sure how that would even work, but then this isn’t my turf, and we’re going too fast for me to get my bearings, anyway. The only thing I can see is the wall that just magically appeared right in front of us, and it’s pulling dangerously close—not that my driver seems concerned, or anything.
“What the actual fuck are you doing? This is a dead end!”
I grip the door tighter, tempted to close my eyes, until the metal shutter rolls up and I suddenly get where we are. The warehouse we visited earlier. The Pontiac cruises into the hangar, and I cuss under my breath. The crowds are baying on either side of us, people raising their cups as we streak through one end and straight out the other, bombing out into a parallel street.
“How did you even…” I think for a moment. “Is that what you were doing this morning? You had this whole thing planned?”
“Prepare for the worst, you know?”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head. “I can’t even… Youknewthis would happen? How’d you know this would be the route?”
“I was hoping Emil would save me having to race, but I knew that if he felt he had no choice, he’d go easy on me and pick the West loop.”
“You think Tyler’s got his own hacks going on?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before, and I’ve got a good memory. He’s not local.” She shrugs. “You never know, though. People know people who know people, so… maybe? Let’s hope not, anyway.”
She hits the gas, and we go swerving down the streets, every single one of her maneuvers razor-sharp and calibrated to perfection. I’m impressed.
“I can’t believe you stalled that day.”
“Are you seriously still hung up on that?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve got to admit, it doesn’t make sense…”
