1
PARTNERS IN CRIME
OCTOBER 1986
Their stolen red convertible was the only thing standing between them and certain death. It housed them as they ripped through city streets, took bullets meant for their bodies, and cradled them in the white leather seats when it locked in a spin.
Adam Vandemilio sat in the passenger seat, shades on, muscled bicep resting along the windowsill, his body jolting violently from side to side as the car swerved at the hands of its driver, his girlfriend Mercedes Preston. She was the best driver in Ridge City. And she was his everything.
She was the only person he’d ever met who was more callous, more vicious, and more fiery than he was. Together they would burn the world down, or at the very least, they would die trying. They lived hard and fast, knowingone daythey’d slip up and die, but at least they’d go out big.
Unfortunately, Adam suspectedtodaywas that day.
Whipping his head around to check the approaching threat, Adam grimaced. “Baby, they’re still right on our fucking tail.” It came out as a yell, to be heard over the buzz of the traffic swirling past as they sprinted up the highway.
“I know,” Mercedes replied calmly. Her fingers gripped the wheel even tighter, locking her eyes on the rearview mirror as she blew the blonde waves from her face, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.
The light blazed down through a clear sky, the asphalt shimmering to sun-like levels with palm trees etching shadows overhead as they bolted down the wide highway dodging traffic. Reckless and on the run, with several cars on their tail, the only thing hotter than the sun was the chase.
“He’s really sent his whole fucking arsenal after us this time,” Mercedes said, swerving to overtake a road train.
“Afterme, baby. After me,” Adam corrected.
“Anyone who’s after you is after me.”
Adam smiled. He couldn’t argue. He felt the same way. They were in this together. Forever and always.
“Well, regardless of who they’re chasing, they’re not giving up easily.” Adam narrowed his eyes as he spotted several black sedans gaining on them, darting through traffic just as carelessly as they were, but without the skill to back it up.
Bullets pierced the front windshield, narrowly missing his head. Mercedes shifted off-road, bouncing along the uneven terrain of grass just long enough to slip out of sight before gunning it back onto the highway again.
“You gonna start shooting back yet?” Mercedes asked.
“Not yet,” Adam said. “I think you’ve got one more bold move in you.”
Adam inclined his head to the sight in front before turning over his shoulder and smirking. The road was coming to an end, culminating in solid concrete pillars.
“Dammit, alright,” Mercedes said, leaning across Adam’s body to click his seatbelt into place, shooting him a disapproving look for forgetting it in the first place. What? He wanted to be limber. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d jumped mid-drive from her car onto the windshield of another.
Mercedes shifted gear, planted her foot on the gas, and jerked to the left, narrowly avoiding the concrete blocks and making the wheels spin.
She soared onto uneven grass, bouncing upwards as the car hit an incline and beelining for the bridge. Oh, he saw where she was going with this, and fuck, itwasbold. Gulping, he gripped the center console.
Mercedes shot him a taunting glare, not even watching the road, as she tugged the wheel. They smashed through the guardrail at full speed and sailed off the bridge, flying weightlessly as if the carwouldsomehow sprout wings and take flight.
His heart thumped and stole his breath, the drop leaving his organs behind. Goddamn, he loved that feeling. He was having far too much fun. This situation was serious, he had better start acting like it. But teetering on the edge of life and death was where he’d happily set up a home.
They landed in a crash against the concrete ground, braced in an aura of smoke and fumes. With a crack, his head banged hard on the dash at the miracle landing, leaving only a gash on his brow and, upon inspection, a cut on his girlfriend’s lip.
“Jesus,” Adam said.
“You wanted bold,” Mercedes shrugged.
“I did,” Adam said, feeling a warm, thick droplet crowd out his vision. Wiping the blood from his eye, he swiped a thumb over his mouth—cut lip there, too.
A smashing sound at the rear had him turning. Four cars had followed them over the railing. Scratch that—fourobviously suicidalcars had followed them over the railing. There was only one driver skilled enough to pull off a trick jump like that.
Yeah, that was what he thought. Behind them was a mass of crumpled sedans, standing upright by the trunks and practically saluting.
