Page 62 of The Devil Can Be Kind

“So…” He began growing nervous, which was odd for him. “Are we going to take it for a spin?”

“Yes,Iam. And you are most welcome to come along for the ride.”

He scowled and muttered an irritated, “Fine.”

I handed him the driver’s manual I was still reading, and after a few seconds of staring at me like I had just escaped from a zoo, he stored it away in the glove compartment. I then readjusted my seat, checked my mirrors, and strapped myself in, ready for my first evening drive.

Anxiety quickly made me rethink my decision however… Not because it was the most expensive car I had ever driven at night, but because I had Don Marco La Torre, one of the most powerful men in the continental United States, as my passenger.

One look at Marco’s face told me that that particular fact hadn’t escaped his knowledge either.

This is ridiculous. Start the car!I commanded myself.

I pressed the ignition button, and the car purred to life. Growing to a growl as I gunned it down the driveway and out into the street. I turned up my music and relaxed back into the plush leather, enjoying the sense of calm I could only achieve through tires on the road.

“Christ! Would you slow down?” Marco’s voice interrupted my pleasant train of thought.

I immediately looked at the speedometer and scowled.What the hell was he talking about?

“Quit your shit, I’m hardly above the speed limit.” I dismissed.

“You’re going forty in a thirty.” He retorted.

“Well, it’s my car. My rules.”

“That I paid for.” He observed.

I chose to ignore him, turning my full attention to the road.

After ten minutes or so, my stomach growled loudly, and I was reminded that I’d skipped lunch and dinner earlier. Looking at the clock now, it was fast approaching half nine and eating was becoming a necessity rather than optional. I did a quick U-turn and headed back down the high street we had just come from, pulling into the McDonald’s we passed earlier and joining the back of the drive-through queue.

“What the hell are you doing?” Marco demanded, staring about in disgust.

“Getting fast food. I’m starving.”

I pulled the car forward with the traffic and studied the menu board now visible before us.

“Hmm… I’m fancying a quarter pounder with bacon. What are you gonna get?” I looked over to him as he stared, clearly annoyed, out the window.

“I don’t eat fast-food crap.”

Didn’t realize I had a food connoisseur in the car.

I sighed derisively and a few minutes later pulled up to the microphone to place our order.

Marco had fallen into a stoney silence beside me, and after a few minutes passed, I sighed. “Oh, would you stop sulking? This is fun!” I enthused, tapping my hand impatiently against the steering wheel while we waited to pull up to the serving window.

“Yes, eating a questionable burger in a brand-new car, what could go wrong?”

“Shhh. Shut it.” I exaggerated, pulling the car up the next window.

The young man behind the glass did a double take at the car, whistling lowly. He carefully handed over the brown sacks of piping hot food and drink, which I passed to Marco for holding. I quickly paid and pulled out of the drive-through, parking the car in a quieter part of the lot.

I took the bags and unceremoniously handed him back a Big Mac meal with chicken nuggets, before taking the rest and getting out of the car.

Our security detail had not gone unnoticed by me, so I made my way over to the familiar black SUV a few spots down and passed both Wyatt and Layton a meal each through the window. They looked just as confused as Marco had, and I couldn’t help but smile all the way back to my car.

“That was nice of you.” Marco murmured as I retook my seat behind the wheel.

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