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“Tell you what,” he steps toward me, dipping his head lower to look me in the eye. “I won’t if you just go grab the damn GPS and give it to Milo,” he says quietly as if I’m a child he’s scolding.
“Why?”
“Again, with the questions, Princess,” the corner of his mouth lifts into a sardonic grin, and his eyes explore my face for a moment.
The tell-tale signs of a shiver prick at the base of my neck, and I have to take a step away from him to clear my senses.
“He’s going to take them back to Ricky, so that when the cops get here, they don’t see the same route blaring in bright colors across both of our systems. It would look a little suspicious, don’t you think?”
He makes a point, and I hate that.
“Fine.”
I retrieve the device from the cab and walk it back over to Milo, who accepts it with a sympathetic half-smile.
“What makes you think the cops will show up? No one even saw what happened.”
“That you know of,” he says.
I cross my arms over my chest and stand there, feet shoulder-width apart, waiting for him to answer. When he finally rolls his eyes and answers, it feels like a minor victory.
“I have a scanner in my car, and heard the call made when I was grabbing the GPS.”
“And you’re not going to hide that?”
“She has a point,” Milo says, still parked beside us, no doubt enjoying the back and forth between his friend and me.
Bodhi grumbles something under his breath as he turns and removes the device from his car, tossing it over to Milo as well.
“I’ll pick it up later, you better split,” Bodhi says, slapping the top of the Chevelle.
“Play nice, dickhead,” Milo tells his friend before he pulls away.
Dickhead indeed. This guy needs a serious reality check; all the exhaust fumes over there at daddy’s track must be getting to him.
I release a long sigh through my nose, attempting to settle myself and prepare for the police to show up. Thankfully Sander’s shift already ended. I don’t know how well this would go over if he were to show up.
Either way, I am so not ready for this.
Chapter 7
I watch as Milo’s taillights disappear into the distance, leaning back against my car. The steam has stopped pouring from the radiator, but the heat from the engine still warms my back as I sit there.
“Well,” I huff, “we might as well get this shit over with.”
“Get what over with?” the girl snaps.
What is her name again? Something King.
Kristen? Karen? Kathryn?
“This,” I gesture between her car and mine and she just stares at me like I’m stupid or something, which is really starting to piss me off. “Listen, I don’t know if you’ve ever been in an accident before, but usually the drivers involved have to exchange insurance and all that good shit.”
“Don’t condescend to me, asshole.”
“Asshole? Wow, that’s classy.”I raise an eyebrow and smile mockingly at her.
She flips me off and turns away, walking back to her car.
