“No.”
“Destiny.”
“No.” I wiped my face again, harder this time. “They wanted to know what kind of girl Mandy’s daughter is? Fine. Tonight they find out.”
Jake’s eyes flicked to the bike. “This is a bad idea.”
“It’s revenge.”
“Usually the same thing.”
Tris looked between us, biting her lip. “What exactly are we doing?”
I smiled then.
Not happy.
Not sane either.
“We’re going to their precious desert bonfire.”
Jake tipped his head back and stared at the sky. “Of course we are.”
“And I’m going to walk in wearing leather, on Edge Rourke’s bike, with my real friends behind me, and I’m going to watch every single one of those rich little saints choke on my name.”
Tris’s mouth slowly curved.
Jake pointed at her. “Don’t encourage this.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re smiling like you’re about to.”
“I’m supporting women.”
“You’re supporting felonies.”
“Not yet,” I said.
Jake looked at me. “That word is doing a lot of work.”
I kicked the bike back into gear.
Tris whooped.
Jake cursed under his breath and climbed into the truck.
And for a while, with the desert opening wide in front of us and the last light burning gold across the road, it felt perfect.
It felt like freedom.
That was how bad decisions got their claws in you.
They didn’t feel bad at first.
They felt like breathing after years underwater.
The bonfire was already raging when we got there.
