Page 60 of Race to Me

Instead of answering her, his midnight gaze searches me. He gives me puppy dog eyes but anger still courses through me at his answer. “I mean, I may or may not have had Brett arrested.”

Twenty-three

Grabbing Kate’s hand in mine, we rush past Foster and out of the mall into the parking lot to head for the Miami police station. I sigh when I realize I have no car. I’m fuming knowing that our only ride is Foster, who put my best friend in jail.

Foster doesn’t speak as he walks out. He slides into his car and cranks it up. I weigh my options, knowing this is the fastest way.

“What did he say?” I ask Kate, sliding into the backseat with her and leaving Foster alone in the front.

Her face scrunches in disgust. “They picked him up last night, and he was too worried to call his parents. He tried dialing your number, but he didn’t know you got a new one!”

“What the fuck were you thinking, Foster?” I croak, throwing my head back. “This could ruin everything for him.”

He looks in the rearview mirror, and his eyes roam my chest, then Kate’s. I scoff, wondering why he felt that to be necessary. But two seconds later, when the car comes to a screeching halt on the side of the road, I realize he was checking to make sure we had on our seatbelts.

“Get out.” he orders, twisting his body to look in my direction.

I shake my head, furiously. “No, you’re taking me to the police station now!” I demand, and he rips open his door and walks around to open mine.

“Step out of the car, now.” he gently demands, and with a huff, I peel my seatbelt off and step out.

Leaning against his car, I cross my arms. “What?” I ask, frustrated.

He places his hands on my shoulders. “I need you to calm down.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” Foster runs a hand over his face. “I did what I had to for you, Sky. I thought he was hurting you. Can you understand what that was like for me? What did you want me to do? Kill him?” he questions. He talks quietly, and when I peek back, Kate’s tapping away on her phone.

I shake my head, knowing he’s right. “No,” I respond, but I stomp my foot onto the pavement. “I’m still mad at you!”

“You’re so damn cute.” He smirks, a dimple raising on his face.

I shove my head into my hands, “Foster, I’m serious!”

I hear Kate laugh at me through the open window, and she leans out, gesturing for us to get back in. The tension has dissipated, but I still feel mad. Mad at the world, mad at my parents, and mad at Foster but thankful he was so quick to protect me. “You’re too tiny to be this angry. You look like a mad kitten.” Foster grins. “Kitten,” He nods to himself, clearly pleased. “I like it.”

I groan, not able to handle either of them. He bends down to whisper in my ear, “For real, Freckles. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” I grit my teeth. “I just want to go get him out, but I have no money!”

“I’ll get him.” Foster offers, but I shake my head.

Kate pops her head back out the window, “I can get him! But why don’t you have any money?” she asks, eavesdropping, but it’s hard not to with the window down.

“Um,” I look to Foster. “I lost my card.” I lie.

“Oh, well you can use mine.” She dangles the plastic between her fingers, but Foster rejects the gesture when I go to grab it. She slices her eyes to him, asking, “Why did you call the cops?”

“It was a huge misunderstanding, but I’m going to take care of it,” he promises, and Kate turns her attention to me.

“Are we still mad at him?” she asks, and when I tell her no, she smiles.

Foster angles my body away from the window, bringing me to the back of his car. The air from the roaring muffler is hot against my leg. “You can’t go in the station.” he tells me quietly.

I throw my hands in the air. “Why?”

“Your parents put out a missing person’s report on you.”

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