Page 131 of Her Sloth

She lets up the door, and I stare into darkness.

She walks inside, and the click of one of the lights illuminates part of the hall. Several cars are in work: classics, custom mods, and, far in the back⁠—

“You got her back?” I ask as I run over to the Mustang, my hands caressing her precious body. I don’t know why this car means so much to me, but it feels like I just got a part of my soul back, like a living part of Elise.

“She was a pain in the ass to restore,” she says. “Jackass and I worked relentlessly on it whenever you were in L.A.”

“I thought she was destroyed after that crash.”

“She was pretty much, including the cage. We didn’t get her a new motor, that was the biggest issue. But she’s back to health and runs like nothing ever happened.”

I cup Cass’s face as I pull myself into her.

“Thank you,” I whisper between two kisses.

She smiles.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted her back after everything⁠—“

“I so did. I thought she was gone.”

We look at her for a moment.

“Soooo,” I say carefully, “Should we test if she’s really back to her full self?”

Cass laughs, “Hell, yeah.”

I grin. “You will lose again, you know that, tight?”

“Nah, I know you too well by now,” she says as she throws me the key.

We get into the cars and the moment the Mustang roars, warmth spreads through me.

It feels like home, because it is home.

I roll out of the garage, down the driveway, and pull up next to her on Reed Street.

“Quarter mile,” I say through the open window, grinning because I can’t wait.

“You’ll so lose,” she says, making the Hellcat growl darkly at me, but I’m unimpressed by her.

“On three,” I say. “One.”

“Two,” she says.

“Three.”

We both shoot off, the normal route around the block.

Cass is on the outside, but she cuts me off in the corner. But I don’t intend on winning this time, so I pretend to race her, pull my stunt around the corner, but let her lead.

“Booom,” she says as I catch up with her at the endmark.

“Follow me,” I tell her as I come to a halt briefly and speed off again. I turn onto Sullivan, two blocks further into Van Brunt, then turn right into Verona Street and come to a halt in front of a wall with a single roller gate and a metal door a few yards away.

I get out.

“What’s in here?” she asks as she gets out, too.