Page 185 of Remy

I turn back to face oncoming traffic with a smirk. “Why? I was under the impression you enjoyed praise.”

“Unless you want to be wrapped around a power pole at a hundred miles an hour please drop the subject.”

“Fine. We’ll reconvene on the topic later.”

“No, we won’t.”

I open the map app on my phone and start scanning for an escape route. “I assure you we will.”

She huffs a frustrated breath and illegally overtakes a white minivan. “Shit. There are traffic lights up ahead. What do I do?”

“If it’s red, slow, but don’t stop. We need to keep moving.”

The light remains green as we approach. Then turns yellow.

She increases our speed instead of slowing. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Keep going.”

The light turns red when we’re still yards away. A blue hatchback edges into traffic from a side street.

Ollie blasts the horn, swerving slightly as we hit the intersection. The hatchback slams on its brakes, the elderly driver giving us the bird as we fly past.

“Goddamn fucking shit,” Ollie cries. “What the hell am I doing?”

“We had more than a few feet between us. You’re doing fine.”

“If you say fine one more time, Remy fucking Costa, I swear to God?—”

“Damn, Ollie. How did you know dirty-mouthed good girls are my kryptonite?”

She blows out a harsh breath, her gaze remaining on the road. “I’m going to kill him. If I don’t kill myself at the same time.”

“Just keep driving.” I check behind us, the black sedan stuck on the other side of the intersection. “They’re caught at the lights.”

She nods to herself. “Okay. I can do this. It’s just like riding my bike through peak-hour traffic.”

We pass small-town stores and cafes.

The local cemetery on our left.

A large pharmacy on our right.

She speeds through Berryville while I keep watch for the sedan, only catching glimpses when it cuts in and out of traffic in the distance.

“Do you still want me to stay on this road?” She scans her rearview as the buildings space out, making way for hills, trees, and vacant land.

“For now.”

The town lights disappear, darkening everything around us into a sea of black. The only way I can tell the Irish are gaining on us are the headlights that keep darting onto the wrong side of the road every time we reach a stretch of highway.

I check the map again. “I’m going to need you to slow down.”

“Slow down? Why?”

“Because I can’t risk them finding us later.”

Her questioning gaze snaps to mine. “What does that—” Her words cut short as horror dawns across her features. “Remy, No. They’ll kill you first.”

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