Page 23 of Hero & Villain (Super Serum Billionaires #1)

“Naw, you look very cute. Let’s take her for a ride.

Get in,” she said, climbing in the passenger side.

I knew how to drive, but I hadn’t actually done it for years, and I’d learned from Toni, who’d learned from Nitro, so my techniques weren’t entirely legal.

“Just take the track around the compound, then, if you’re comfortable, we’ll go for a longer drive on a real track. ”

Dirk vaulted over the side, sitting in the back, leaning forward so his arm brushed my shoulder. He also had Marcus Licinius Crassus’s doughnut and took a bite out of it like a complete barbarian. So gross. Except that he had pink frosting on his pink lips and…

I refocused on the steering wheel. “Dirk, you don’t need to be here. I wouldn’t want to take any more of your precious time.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you’re comfortable there?” I asked, glancing at him. He looked very comfortable.

He smiled, but I couldn’t see his eyes behind his reflective glasses. “I couldn’t be more comfortable if I were unconscious, but I appreciate the concern.”

I exhaled loudly, wanting to stick my tongue out at him. “I’m so happy to hear that,” I ground out. “Isn’t this supposed to be a commuter car, not a race car?” I asked Trixie.

She shrugged, shoving some curls out of her face. “Of course, but sometimes traffic gets bad. Off-roading can save some time.” She said it so seriously, like off-roading was always a rational option. Okay then.

I turned the key and shifted into drive. I took a deep breath and pulled out between the rows of cars, driving towards the garage door. The closed garage door. The car leapt forward, and I barely braked in time to keep from crashing into the metal.

Trixie patted my shoulder. “The great thing about this car is that it accelerates so quickly, and it’s got reinforced bumpers and some extra build in the frame, so you could punch right through your generic aluminum garage door without too much damage to the body.

” Her slight New York accent didn’t reassure me any more than the grip on my shoulder. The woman was strong.

The garage door started rising, nice and steady. My heart was pounding from the near crash, but Trixie didn’t seem worried at all. I glanced back at Dirk, but all I saw was my own panicked expression in his glasses’ reflection.

“Are you sure you want to be in this car?” I asked.

He flashed a smirk. “I think I’m safer in it than outside it.”

“That’s what you think.” I pushed on the accelerator, and that car did zero to sixty in two seconds.

I barely didn’t run into the compound’s chain-link gate, turning the wheel and sliding across gravel before Toni’s lessons kicked in and I remembered how to deal with speed and sudden changes in direction.

I circled the lot much faster than was safe, but I wasn’t sure how to slow down. I finally slammed on the brakes in front of the gate, and we sat there, dust rising around us in a cloud.

Trix grabbed me in a rough side-hug before grinning at me, her own glasses slightly askew.

“You remind me of Nitro. I miss that girl. The way you drive, be sure to wear your seatbelt. Also, go easy on her or you’ll burn out the pistons.

Also, the green button in the middle of the steering wheel.

It’s a little something extra involving jet fluid.

Don’t use it in town as it’s not strictly legal.

You have any problems, let me know. Or Dirk.

He’s not a half-bad mechanic for a tech geek.

” She vaulted out of the car and strode back into the building, leaving me gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Dirk took her place beside me, leaning back as if he was enjoying the day.

“And that’s the dragon. She’s impressed you didn’t crash. You were going way too fast. Your skills are on par with those of a back alley racer with no training. Trix respects back-alley racers. I don’t. Let’s do that again with a little more prudence.”

I tried again. That time, I over-corrected on the first turn and ended up ramming the fence. The chain link was sturdy and ended up stretched halfway across the hood when the dust cleared.

“Wow, Pinky. I think you chipped the paint.”

“What is with you and pink? It’s not normal.

” I put the car in reverse, and the sound of metal on metal was much worse than nails on a chalkboard.

Once I got back on the trail, I shot a look at Dirk.

“I should probably admit that I haven’t driven for three years.

I’m from the city, and parking is expensive.

” That’s what Toni’s excuse for not having a car was.

Of course, I wasn’t pretending to be Toni anymore.

“No kidding. Did you actually ever learn how to drive, or did you just happen to boost a car one day and the rest is history?”

I scowled at him. “Toni taught me. It was a stolen car, but I didn’t hit anything. You can’t call grazing a telephone pole hitting something.”

He started laughing. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just laughed harder, leaning forward while his body shook.

“It’s not that funny.”

He patted my head. “Let me guess who taught her.”

I grimaced. “Were you going to teach me or just keep laughing? Apparently, keep laughing. Fine. Not like I have anything else to do. You know, you snort a little when you laugh. It’s very unattractive.”

He snorted loudly, and for a second I smiled, but I did not laugh. Eventually he wiped the tears from his eyes and leaned back to study me. “Do you have a driver’s license?”

“Of course.”

“Is it legal?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. It’s Toni’s, so probably not.”

He laughed again, but not nearly for as long. “That’s a no, Princess. Other people’s IDs aren’t legal when you use them. Why don’t you use your name? I know you aren’t Toni, and Nix is still letting you work for him because he doesn’t care who you are.”

“That’s only part of it. If I use my real name, there’s a possibility that- no, not a possibility. I’ll be tracked down.”

“The abusive lover?”

“And my family.”

He made a noise. “Which is a bigger threat?”

“Family.” I shouldn’t have said that. I chewed my bottom lip before giving him a bright smile. “So, are you ethically compromised and incapable of teaching someone with a fake license how to drive?”

“No. Morally, it’s a balance between legality and the greater good.

Having a criminal on the streets is less dangerous if the criminal knows how to drive.

This car is a machine of destruction in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing.

In your hands, it’s a bomb waiting to blow. There’s jet fuel in one of the tanks.”

“I could just ride a bike.”

“Bikes are harder to handle, and car drivers don’t see them. You wouldn’t last an hour.”

Oh, he thought I meant motorcycle. Those I knew how to ride very well.

It had been a point of honor with Philippe, who thought his motorcycle skills made him a better potential heir.

“I meant bicycle. Never mind. Sir Badger, would you do me the honor of instructing this criminal in the ways of legal driving in a way that will make me less of a nuisance to society?”

“Princess Pink, it would be my honor. I mean, if I had honor, it would be my honor, but I’m not a hero so…” He elbowed me and then proceeded to give me a lesson on how to start slow and brake gently.

“All right, let’s take it on the road,” he said after we’d gone around a dozen times without hitting anything.

I shot him a look. “A public road? Is that morally conscionable, Sir Badger?”

“What’s with the Badger and the Sir? I thought I was your hero prince.”

I smirked. “You aren’t my anything. You’re the one who likes rhyming. I dubbed thee Jerk Badger of the Incompetent Ninja League.”

“I’m not yours, but you’re already coming up with pet names for me? Long pet names are a sign of how bad you have it for someone, particularly if they rhyme with their actual names. Face it, Princess, you’re smitten.”

“My knee was smitten, also my face. Like Dirk Dagger was your actual name. I can just see you at Harvard. ‘Mr. Dagger, what did you think about the lecture on colonialization in Western Africa?’ ‘Harold Bingham the fifteenth, why I thought it had a lot of merit if you compare it to the obviously morally unconscionability of similar colonialization in Eastern Asia.’ ‘Why, you’re a genius, young Dirk. You must come to the Pork Pie Festival this Thursday. You can admire my chess set.’”

“Bocce court. Harolding Bingham the Fifteenth was incredibly proud of his Bocce court. You admire my chest set.” He winked at me.

I snorted and almost ran a stop sign. There wasn’t much traffic out in this corner of the desert far from the Strip. “Is that where you pack your lead?”

“I don’t carry.”

“I meant weight. Last night made it very clear that you need more fat and less muscle. Fat is lighter, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I always think about those unfortunate enough to carry around my unconscious body after they knock me out.”

“Good. That’s the Sir Badger in you.”

“Take a right here. Don’t forget to signal.”

“It’s uncomfortable to let other people know what I’m doing. What if I change my mind, or what if they’re following me? You can’t lose a tail if you signal.”

“You have to lose a lot of tails? I withdraw the question. Left lane. Signal first. Three seconds before you change lanes- you signal. Slow seconds, not fast ones. Signal to get into the left turn lane. You do know your left from your right, don’t you?”

I shot him a hard glare. “Right now, you’re about to get thrown out of a speeding vehicle. There won’t be much left of you. How is that for right and left?”

He patted my head. “We’ll work on it.”

I bit down my smile and took a left turn nice and slow. Unfortunately, the car barreling towards us wasn’t going slow. Dirk stomped on my foot, and our car shot out of the intersection in a cloud of white smoke.

I coughed and glared at him. “I signaled!”