Page 39

brODY

I slide the keys to the blacked-out Dodge Charger into my palm, feeling the cool metal against my skin. The freshly waxed paint gleams like a challenge. As an adrenaline junkie, I look forward to putting this classic muscle car through its paces.

“I’m sorry, Easton,” I say, waving at the camera, knowing he doesn’t have access to his phone right now, thanks to Weston. “I will take care of her.”

I sink into the leather seat, holding the steering wheel tight, feeling rebellion in my grip. I crank the engine, and it roars to life. The rumble vibrates through my bones, and a smirk touches my lips because it’s music to my damn ears.

I rev it, feeling that raw energy beneath my fingertips, allowing the engine to warm up before I take off.

Now, this is the kind of chaos I’ve craved. I’ll have to give Harper a thank-you when I track her down.

With a swift push of the clutch, I slide it into first gear. I zoom away, the automatic garage door rises, and the street opens up. The tires scream as I peel out of the parking garage, hanging my hand out the window with a middle finger blazing. I leave rubber and smoke in my wake. My only regret is not getting to see my dear cousin’s reaction when he watches the replay of that video.

I steal a glance in the rearview mirror and scan for anyone following me. In the back seat are my two duffel bags. One’s crammed with clothes; the other is filled with weapons and ammo. I can never be too careful in this game.

Right now, I’m searching for trouble, and it’s spelled H-A-R-P-E-R.

I can already picture her smile, that cocky little grin that says she knows more than I do.

But she doesn’t. Not this time. Not when it comes to Micah. Or what she desperately needs.

Once I’m out of the city, the open road stretches before me. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, feeling the power surge as I accelerate. The glowing lights fade away, and I drive toward darkness.

Harper can run, but she cannot hide. Not from me.

Oh, I will find her, like I always do.