Page 27

Bobo really didn’t look happy to be left behind,” Layla commented from the back seat.

We were all piled into the new Clyde, and with Griffin at the wheel I rode shotgun.

“When he gave me those eyes of his,” she went on, “all sad and shit? I swear, I was crazy close to smuggling him in the trunk.”

It wasn’t like I never left Bobo at the house when I went out. With school alone, he was used to it. But my sweet boy and I were connected. Undoubtedly, he could feel the tension vibrating through me. He’d protested my leaving more than usual, his insistence pushing the limits of all the training I’d done with him.

“The crossroads is no place for him,” Brady told his sister.

“Well, obviously. I wasn’t actually suggesting we turn around and go pick him up. He just … it made me sad, that’s all.”

“It made me sad too,” I said softly, gazing out the window, taking in the trees the headlights illuminated as we zoomed past them.

Griffin zipped around a curve, shifted gears, and brought his hand to my thigh, squeezing my leg through my tight jeans.

In the car’s near darkness, I couldn’t make out the intensity of his eyes, just the contours of his beautiful face, the gentle curves of his lips.

“We could still go back though,” I ventured. “Order pizza and get cozy with some beers, maybe some herb. Binge watch some more Warrior . Get inspired with some of its sick fight scenes before Homer and them kick our asses tomorrow. Remind ourselves why we’re training.”

Griffin glanced at me before fixing his eyes back on the winding road up ahead, pulling his hand from my leg to shift again.

Instantly, I missed his touch. I’d gotten too little of it lately, while we all played the parts Magnum had assigned us in this farce.

“That show is so totally lit,” Brady said. “Makes me want to be able to fight like they do right the fuck now. Get sticky as much as they do too.”

“That show makes even me want to get sticky,” Layla chimed in, as if either of them wanting to get laid more often was unusual.

“Shall we do it, then?” I asked, my question hopeful.

“You know we can’t,” Griffin said.

I’d already tried to talk him out of racing several times in the last hour. Even though I expected that answer, I sighed. “Can’t we though? Who cares what Rich and all his stupid friends think?”

“It’s not about that. I don’t care one shit what any of them think.” Griffin switched to speaking to us alone. Rich needs to learn he can’t push us all around. I’m fucking done with him. I’ll never forget what he did to Brade.

Nor will I, Hunt said.

I’m not gonna stand by and watch him push himself on you now. It was bad enough watching him perv on Lay. I won’t do nothing while he plays his sick little game with you too.

I swiveled in my seat to fully face Griff’s silhouette. What happened with Brade was an accident. Maybe. Regardless, it’s not like he’s ever gonna stop being an asshole. I’m pretty sure that shit’s built into his DNA.

He must get it from his uncle, Layla said with a chortle.

I insisted, Our only focus right now should be on staying alive. Everything else can wait.

It’s not like I’m taking any unusual risks, Griff argued. We’ve raced at the crossroads dozens of times before, and that was before we knew we could come back from the dead.

I faced forward, unwilling to search the shadows of his face while I asked the question that weighed on me more than any of the other unknowns. And what if one of these times one of us doesn’t come back? What if they kill us for good?

No one said anything to that, leaving me to assume they’d been wondering the same thing.

Finally, Hunt said, Then it’ll be the same as with anyone else.

Only everyone else doesn’t have an entire team of professionals out to kill them, I pressed.

That much is fucking true, Layla admitted. But, Joss, that’s a constant of our lives now. Until we find the way out, we’ve gotta accept it and keep going best we can.

I refuse to accept that. I turned in my seat to shoot her a look even though she wouldn’t be able to make out much of it. I won’t accept that any of you guys could be taken away from me at any time. No fucking way.

Again, a deep silence spread through the car as I faced forward. We were probably less than five minutes away from the crossroads now.

After a minute, Layla said, You’re extra freaked right now ’cause it’s Griff, and he’s, like, your secret boyfriend.

Of course I’m extra freaked ’cause it’s Griff. But that doesn’t mean I’d be any less freaked if it were any of you. This all just … I’m not handling it well.

Brady huffed. None of us are handling it well, Joss. Some of us are just better at shoving down our feelings and pretending. I can barely sleep at night anymore. I keep feeling like one of you’ll be gone when I wake up.

The weight of our reality only grew heavier.

We have to find a way out of this, Hunt said. A real way.

Well, we’re all fucking trying, aren’t we? Brady asked. No luck yet. I don’t understand how we can be the freaking immortals and still be the weak ones.

Because we aren’t willing to kill indiscriminately, Griffin said.

At first I didn’t know if I’d be able to kill Magnum, I admitted. But now I know I can. Now I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on him. I can’t keep living this way, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For death. It’s fucking insanity, man. Insanity.

So we set up to kill him ASAP, Layla said. Like, tomorrow.

Why tomorrow specifically? Brady asked.

Some rustling told me Layla shifted in her seat directly behind me to stare at Brady. ’Cause why wait? I’m feeling this shit just as bad as Joss is.

Me too, Hunt said. I’m in. Let’s figure out where he’s going to be and take him out.

Okay, Griffin said. I don’t think they’ll be expecting us to come in hot, guns blazing. I think they’ve bought it, that we don’t know shit right now.

Even with us knowing more than usual, I said, I still feel like we don’t know shit.

Me too, said Hunt. And I don’t like not knowing something.

Hunt exhaled sharply, and I turned to see Layla grinning after jabbing him in the side. Must be a new feeling for you, she teased. Not knowing something, you fucking brainiac.

“We’re getting close,” Brady announced aloud.

I pleaded, “Please don’t do it, Griff. I have a bad feeling about it.”

To be fair, I hadn’t had a good feeling about our life expectancies since we’d discovered we were “extraordinary.”

Griffin glanced at me, slowing to take a sharp right. Closer to the old farming route, the trees had been cut centuries ago to make room for cultivation. The streets were straighter here than they were around our stomping grounds, where the roads wove through the forests.

His strong, warm hand rubbed my leg some more. “It’ll be okay, Joss. We’ve checked Clyde over. He’s running great.”

Indeed, we’d practically dissected the car in our need to verify that no part of the Mustang had been tampered with, that every component was where and how it was supposed to be. The brakes were in perfect working condition, as was the steering, the souped-up V8 engine, all of it. We’d even stolen defibrillator paddles from the school and stashed them in the trunk, just in case. None of us were fans of stealing, but if we tried to buy them, we worried someone would rat us out to Magnum and the jig would be up before we’d had the chance to make substantial progress.

“It’s a short, straight run,” Griffin persisted. “It’ll be smooth sailing. I’ve driven it tons of times. As have you.”

“That was before …” I hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Hurriedly, I adjusted. “Before Rich asked Uncle Magnum for the Aston Martin. How are you gonna beat the Aston Martin Valkyrie?”

Griffin chuckled smoothly. “You know as well as I do. The car’s part of it, sure, and the Aston Martin’s a fucking beauty, no doubt. But more than the car, it’s the driver. And I can outdrive the fuck out of Rich Connely. Besides, Clyde’s a sweet ride too.”

“Fuck yeah he is,” Brady agreed.

It’s not the same car we worked on, I said, growing desperate. We were on the final stretch of road that would intersect the crossroads. We were almost there.

I know, Griffin said. I don’t like it either. But all the upgrades we made are still there. And for all we know, they’ve switched Clyde out on us several times. Maybe Bonnie too.

From the seat behind Griff’s, Brady sucked in an affronted gasp. Blasphemy! Then he pretended he’d choked, coughing for our likely eavesdroppers.

Maybe she used to be bubblegum pink, Layla said.

Take that back! Brady snapped.

Layla laughed, and it came off as if she were laughing at her brother as he choked on his spittle. Knowing the two of them, it was believable.

Once more, Griffin’s hand found its way to my thigh. If anyone had planted night-vision cameras in here, we were fucked; the darkness wouldn’t conceal that we desperately wanted to be more than friends.

Griffin’s deep voice filtered softly through my mind. It’s not enough for me to stay alive, always looking over our shoulders, just waiting for them to make a move. If I’m going to fight so hard to stay alive, I need to really live , Joss. I want to be me . To do the things that feel good to do. If we don’t do that, what are we even fighting so hard to live for?

To be together? To all make it into our twenties and beyond?

And we will. However we do it, I know we’ll find the way. Together, we can do fucking anything.

Hell yeah we can, Brady said.

All we’ve really got right now is this moment, and then the next and the next. But Joss, that’s it. We don’t know what the future holds. None of us do. That goes for everyone. We’ve gotta live the shit out of right now ’cause it’s what we’ve got. It’s the only for-sure we’ve got, and I don’t want to waste a second of it.

But you could enjoy the fuck out of the moment without taking any additional risks.

Then I wouldn’t be me. We’ve never played it safe. Never lived safe.

He’s got a point there, girl, Layla said. We’re not a play-it-safe kinda crew. Not even you. Fuck, especially not you.

Exactly, Griffin said. Don’t go changing who we are for them. That’s one thing they can’t make us give up.

And just like that, I was forced to accept I’d lost this battle. After a round of deep inhales that did nothing to settle the unease churning inside me, I nodded into the darkness.

Yeah, okay. You’re right. It’s us against the world. So let’s be us.

That’s my girl, Griffin said, and his smile was so fucking sexy and gorgeous that he felt larger than life. Like no one could ever take him from me.

Griffin was passion and fire and intensity. He was broodiness and rough edges and power. Griffin was everything .

By the time we pulled up to where dozens of cars were parked on the shoulder of the two-lane country road, excitement had replaced my unease, and I buzzed with it.

“Looks like Rich got the word out,” Layla said as Griffin pulled to a stop close to the front.

She exited first. Brady and Hunt filed out next, the three of them waiting for us.

I was pushing open my door when Griffin leaned over, his hand covering mine to pull it shut again.

Give us some cover, guys, Griffin said.

While I was still wondering what he meant by that, his hands gripped my waist and tugged me toward him. A surprised gasp slipped out of me. Half perched on the edge of my seat, half on his lap, with a gearshift digging into my outer thigh, Griffin’s lips slammed against mine.

Instantly I was on fire, returning his kiss as if carpe fucking diem were inked across my forehead.

We picked up where we left off in my bedroom at the institute. His hands, my hands, they tried to be everywhere at once. I felt feverish with the need to explore his body the way only a lover could.

To claim him as mine.

All. Fucking. Mine.

When his mouth trailed down to my neck, I threw my head back and swallowed down a moan that was part panting whimper. “Griff …” I barely dared breathe, even now concerned with who might be listening and what it would mean if they realized Griffin and I were two hot seconds away from fucking right here in his car, spectators be damned.

He pulled me fully onto his lap, his lips dragging across my collarbones, a hand cupping my breast, rubbing across a nipple that strained to bust free of my bra so it could get where it belonged already—in his fucking mouth.

I heard voices outside that weren’t our friends. Opening my eyes took real effort, but when I saw Brady, Hunt, and Layla positioned around Clyde to block as much of the view through the windows as possible, I didn’t hesitate to straddle Griffin. The fit was tight, but ever so doable. I lowered myself onto Griffin’s groin, his dick hard through his jeans, and had to bite my lip to keep in the wanton moan that wanted to escape. My eyes rolled back for a moment as I ground on him, and he grunted roughly, bringing both hands to my breasts, his thumbs rubbing my nipples over two layers of fabric that felt as unwelcome as two hundred.

My core throbbed as I rubbed it up and down the length of his erection. When I ran my fingers through his hair, I tugged and lowered my lips to his ear to whisper, “Screw waiting. I want you inside me right this fucking second.”

This time, Griffin groaned louder than he probably should have. I had zero fucks to give.

He kissed my neck again, my ear, then sucked on my earlobe. There, his breath hot and tantalizing, he whispered, “You’re everything to me, Joss. I want you. I want it all.”

My core clenched. I brought my hand between us to his jeans, rubbing it over his hard dick.

He threw his head back onto the seat, his eyes clenched shut for a moment. A sweep of arriving headlights illuminated his face for several seconds, and I had to stop just to admire him—his full lips, his strong jawline, the dark scruff along it that made him look dangerous and entirely fucking edible.

Keep looking at me like that and our first time won’t be the special event I’ve been envisioning, Griffin said inside my mind—and also into our friends’ minds, fuck me.

Git after it, bro, Brady said, infiltrating what I was trying really hard to pretend was a private moment.

At this point, I don’t mind putting on a show, I said. Fuck it. Fuck it all.

I lowered myself back onto his lap, rubbing myself against him.

Don’t tell me that. After all these years … His hands stilled my grinding hips, and with an infinitely gentle touch, he pulled my face down to his. With the barely-there lighting provided by headlights pointing away from us, his eyes were dark, glittering, possessive. “Later.” He flattened his palm between my breasts and pressed his forehead to mine. “Just you and me,” he breathed.

Both his hands moved to my ass. He squeezed, then slid them under my shirt and splayed his palms against my skin, pulling me close against his chest.

There, pressed together, with far too many clothes between us, we inhaled and exhaled, again and again and again, until our breathing slowed and calmed.

When his lips next found mine, their touch was gentle, a flutter. “You and me,” he whispered against them.

Wanting that more than anything else in the world, I nodded against him, where our foreheads still met.

His hot hands slid down my back, across my waist, and beneath the waistband of my jeans to squeeze my ass—my cheeks bare around a string of lace.

I jerked my gaze up to his. His eyes were still dark, still glittering, still possessive.

He gave me a cheeky grin and a wink that made me melt all over again. “I have a race to win before I claim my prize.”

As if I might not have understood what he was implying, after he pulled his hands free, he slapped my ass, then lifted me off him, guiding me to the passenger’s seat.