Page 87 of False God

She tugs my jacket closer around her slim frame. We’re only a couple of miles from the coast, wind whipping through the car park.

“Left,” she answers confidently.

I hold out my keys.

Lili takes them.

My stomach flips as I climb into the passenger side.

This is a larger sacrifice than she realizes. I didn’t fuck up my knee playing rugby, the way I made it sound to her last night. I was in a car accident when I was seventeen. Three of the other guys walked away with minor injuries. Piers Colborn who was driving, broke his arm. But my leg took most of the impact. If I hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, I probably would have died. And I haven’t gotten into a vehicle someone else was driving since.

I’ve never been able to give up the control, and my dad’s death only amplified that urgency.

Completely illogical, me handing the keys to an injured American after nine years of not even letting a professional driver pick me up somewhere.

This has nothing to do with her driving abilities and everything to do with me wanting to make Lili feel better.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my trousers as she turns the key in the ignition. The Aston Martin’s engine rumbles to life. My dad owned three, but this ’66 was his pride and joy. I wonder sometimes what him not driving it that last night means. If he’d had some premonition of when and how it would all end.

“Is this a bad time to tell you I’ve never driven stick before?”

I glance at her as the car rolls through the open spot in front of us. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

She simply smiles. Turns the wheel toward the exit.

“Pull over.”

“You said I could drive!”

“When I thought you knewhowto drive.”

“It can’t be that hard to drive stick. Boys do it.”

I shake my head. “I’m serious, Lili.”

“And I’m kidding. I drove a race car yesterday; you think I can’t handle this antique?”

“It’svintage, and I didn’t get to see you drive. I was racing too, remember?”

Lili shifts, and it’s not very smooth thanks to her injured hand.

But she glares when I try to help her, then smiles when we pick up speed.

And I care about catastrophic possibilities a hell of a lot less than I should, watching her drive my car.

Pembroke is a small coastal town. We bypass most of it since the hospital is on the outskirts, the road quickly becoming empty of other cars.

I move around in the passenger seat, trying to get comfortable on the unfamiliar side.

Despite the strangeness, there’s a sudden lightness expanding in my chest, pushing away the worried weight that often rests there. Maybe because I survived some demons today, sitting in that waiting room again. Maybe it’s the woman beside me.

I blame the ease for the next words out of my mouth. “You in a rush to get back?”

She glances over at me, the car swerving a little, and I swear.

Her lips purse as she deliberates. “No,” Lili decides. “They probably already served the cake.”

I roll my eyes but keep them aimed on the road in hopes that it’ll encourage Lili to do the same. “Take a left up ahead then.”

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