since Sandor suggested I take one of the cars. “Always signal; no racing to catch yellows; keep the top up. I get it.”
“You better,” replies Sandor, his tone more parental than ever. He looks a bit anxious about the way I’m excitedly drumming my hands on the wheel, but he steps back.
“Have a good time,” he says.
I carefully pull out of the parking garage. Sandor, watching me and nervously rubbing his beard, disappears in my rearview mirror.
When I’m a few blocks away from the John Hancock building, I hit the button to roll the top down. What Sandor doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
I pick Maddy up at the park across the street from the rec center. The convertible handles like a dream and I cruise over to her place following all of Sandor’s rules. Except for the top, of course. The cool night air swirls around me and I feel energized.
This is as free as I’ve ever felt.
Maddy is sitting on the bench when I pull up, and does a double take when she sees me behind the wheel. I wave her over.
“Want to go for a ride?” I ask.
“Oh, wow, is this yours?”
“My uncle’s,” I tell her, shrugging nonchalantly. “He’s cool with it.”
Maddy glances up and down the street, a bit apprehensive.
“You’re a good driver? I can trust you?”
Okay, I don’t technically have a license. But I do have an extremely convincing fake that Sandor forged in his workroom. I’ve also got plenty of experience behind the wheel. Back when we were nomads, Sandor had me practice driving as soon as my feet could reach the pedals, mostly to relieve him when he got tired.
“Of course,” I reply.
We engage in a mini staring contest, her jokingly sizing up my trustworthiness, me trying my hardest to look innocent. I can’t help the devilish smile that creeps across my face.
“Aha!” she says, pointing. “The look of a speed demon.”
Before I can defend myself, Maddy vaults over the passenger door and flops down in the seat beside me. She flashes me a lopsided grin.
“I’ve always wanted to do that.”
I can’t take my eyes off her. Right then, Maddy looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. I watch as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, not wanting to get it tangled in the wind. I’m immediately swept into a vision of just driving forever, out of Chicago; it doesn’t matter where as long as Maddy’s next to me. Still, something nags at me, a sensation that I can’t quite place, adding a dark edge to what is an otherwise perfect moment.
I ignore the feeling.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“Ready,” she answers.
I don’t take my eyes off her as I pull away from the curb with a flourish.
Immediately, I rear-end a conversion van that’s double-parked a few feet away. That definitely wasn’t there a few minutes ago.
“Oof,” groans Maddy as we’re both jerked forward.
“Are you all right?” I ask, my hands shaking uncontrollably on the wheel. I’m simultaneously terrified that I’ve hurt her and mortified that I’ve made such an unbelievable asshole of myself.
“I—I think so,” she stammers.
In front of us, the doors of the conversion van swing open and three men jump out. They’re all dressed in dark clothes, matching fedoras pulled low over pale faces.
I realize that in my back pocket, my iMog is vibrating like crazy.
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t need the incessant vibrating from my pocket to tell me that the three men standing in front of my car are Mogs. I know my enemy.
“They probably want your insurance info,” says Maddy as she begins rifling through the glove box.
For a second I try to convince myself that this could just be a coincidence, that they don’t know exactly who—or what—I am. But they’re not looking at the damage to their van. I’ve crumpled their back bumper pretty good and shattered one of their taillights, but they don’t seem to care.
All three of them stare at me. Slowly, one of them begins to reach under his coat.
There’s no way
“You better,” replies Sandor, his tone more parental than ever. He looks a bit anxious about the way I’m excitedly drumming my hands on the wheel, but he steps back.
“Have a good time,” he says.
I carefully pull out of the parking garage. Sandor, watching me and nervously rubbing his beard, disappears in my rearview mirror.
When I’m a few blocks away from the John Hancock building, I hit the button to roll the top down. What Sandor doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
I pick Maddy up at the park across the street from the rec center. The convertible handles like a dream and I cruise over to her place following all of Sandor’s rules. Except for the top, of course. The cool night air swirls around me and I feel energized.
This is as free as I’ve ever felt.
Maddy is sitting on the bench when I pull up, and does a double take when she sees me behind the wheel. I wave her over.
“Want to go for a ride?” I ask.
“Oh, wow, is this yours?”
“My uncle’s,” I tell her, shrugging nonchalantly. “He’s cool with it.”
Maddy glances up and down the street, a bit apprehensive.
“You’re a good driver? I can trust you?”
Okay, I don’t technically have a license. But I do have an extremely convincing fake that Sandor forged in his workroom. I’ve also got plenty of experience behind the wheel. Back when we were nomads, Sandor had me practice driving as soon as my feet could reach the pedals, mostly to relieve him when he got tired.
“Of course,” I reply.
We engage in a mini staring contest, her jokingly sizing up my trustworthiness, me trying my hardest to look innocent. I can’t help the devilish smile that creeps across my face.
“Aha!” she says, pointing. “The look of a speed demon.”
Before I can defend myself, Maddy vaults over the passenger door and flops down in the seat beside me. She flashes me a lopsided grin.
“I’ve always wanted to do that.”
I can’t take my eyes off her. Right then, Maddy looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. I watch as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, not wanting to get it tangled in the wind. I’m immediately swept into a vision of just driving forever, out of Chicago; it doesn’t matter where as long as Maddy’s next to me. Still, something nags at me, a sensation that I can’t quite place, adding a dark edge to what is an otherwise perfect moment.
I ignore the feeling.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“Ready,” she answers.
I don’t take my eyes off her as I pull away from the curb with a flourish.
Immediately, I rear-end a conversion van that’s double-parked a few feet away. That definitely wasn’t there a few minutes ago.
“Oof,” groans Maddy as we’re both jerked forward.
“Are you all right?” I ask, my hands shaking uncontrollably on the wheel. I’m simultaneously terrified that I’ve hurt her and mortified that I’ve made such an unbelievable asshole of myself.
“I—I think so,” she stammers.
In front of us, the doors of the conversion van swing open and three men jump out. They’re all dressed in dark clothes, matching fedoras pulled low over pale faces.
I realize that in my back pocket, my iMog is vibrating like crazy.
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t need the incessant vibrating from my pocket to tell me that the three men standing in front of my car are Mogs. I know my enemy.
“They probably want your insurance info,” says Maddy as she begins rifling through the glove box.
For a second I try to convince myself that this could just be a coincidence, that they don’t know exactly who—or what—I am. But they’re not looking at the damage to their van. I’ve crumpled their back bumper pretty good and shattered one of their taillights, but they don’t seem to care.
All three of them stare at me. Slowly, one of them begins to reach under his coat.
There’s no way
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