Page 49 of Out of Sight

Nobody was paying attention to us. They were gathering at the front of the bookshop, rubbernecking at all the broken glass and chaos in there. I didn’t see Antonio, so I opened the car door, pushing Claire inside and popping the trunk to look around. I saw a small tool bag with a slotted screwdriver inside; that would probably work for an older car like this Corolla.

“I’m borrowing this car so we can get the hell out of here.”

“Borrow?” Claire was livid. I could hardly blame her. I was pissed, too, but I wasn’t directing that at her. It was all atAntonio and the Morellis who chose this moment to fuck up my perfect day with my perfect girl.

“Steal,” I told her decisively.Sorry, honey, I know you’re disappointed in me.

I sat down on the edge of the seat, forcing Claire to move over to the passenger side with my hip as I pushed myself in. I shoved the screwdriver in the ignition, praying to whatever god would listen that this would work. Relief surged through me when the engine turned over.

“Will, we can’t just steal someone’s car! We need to call Jim.”

“Claire!” I took a second to lower my volume. “Put on your seat belt. We’re getting out of here. Now.”

“We can’t do this! It’s not right!”

I ignored her, putting the car in drive and hitting pedal to the metal. In the two minutes it took to get going I didn’t see Antonio leave the shop to follow us, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know where we were or wasn’t already hiding in plain sight.

“Jim would tell you the same thing I am: now is not the time to take the moral high ground. Now is the time to survive. We needed to get out of there, so buckle up!”

I was driving too fast, but couldn’t slow down. I needed to do everything I could to keep her safe. She was still fuming, but pulled the seat belt across her body, strapping herself into place. I could breathe again.

“It’s great to have a code and try to do the right thing, but sometimes there’s more important things. If the owner knew why we took the car he probably wouldn’t mind,” I tried again.

“You don’t need to justify your criminal actions. What’s done is done.”

Ouch.I was back to being a criminal again. I guess it was a good thing I hadn’t told her about the money yet.

We pulled up to the house a minute or so later, the car squealing harshly as I slammed on the brakes. Jim was sitting in a chair on the front porch, practically frothing at the mouth. He stood up with arms crossed, holding the note I’d taped to the front door for him.

Gone to go bang Claire where the neighbors won’t file

a noise complaint from her screaming orgasms. brb.

It was funny at the time.

His pissed off face melted into professional readiness when he saw our expressions. He opened the front door, herding us inside.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “I’ve been waiting on this porch since I got home and found your note ten minutes ago! How long have you been out? Has anyone seen you? Do you know what kind of shitstorm you could have caused?”

His harsh voice put things into perspective. It was really dangerous to go out like we did, and going into the bookshop was even more stupid.

But Jim was here with us and he was damn good at his job. Things would be okay.

He slammed the door behind us and I felt like a sense of safety.

But then the bomb went off.

eighteen

Claire

The bomb must’ve been planted somewhere in the living room because it threw Jim in the opposite direction from Will and I. We were thrown clear into the kitchen and I couldn’t see Jim at all.

Will screamed in pain as he grabbed me around the waist, hauling me back several feet farther into the kitchen and under the dining table. That table was the only thing separating us from the sky. Where did the roof go?

“Claire! Oh, god, are you okay?” He was leaning over me, shaking me almost desperately. My hand went up to my forehead to brush away the hair that fell in my eyes, but my fingertips came back covered in red. Was I bleeding?

How could this be a safehouse if it didn’t have a roof? Was it an un-safe house now?

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