Page 69 of Green Flag
Luca blinked slowly and itched his shoulder as if his boss wasn’t about to explode into smithereens in front of him.
Dad passed his glass to Abbé and got his phone out of his pocket, immediately going to his photo app.
I looked over the glass. There were no bubbles. Just straight gin.
He shoved the picture that had clearly been making the rounds into Luca’s face. “I’m certain I told you not to breathe the same air as her! This is a lot of breathing her air.”
Luca tilted his head to the side, looking the photo over. “Actually, I’d say we’re not breathing there.”
There was movement. Dad went to rush Luca, who was trying not to laugh, and Abbé shoved the glass on the desk before holding Dad back.
“Luca,” Abbé scolded.
He shrugged. “Glad we’ve got this hashed out.”
“But we haven’t,” Dad snarled. “I had to find out from Nix. Who took great pleasure in telling me. Maybe he’ll have to be my new favourite.”
Luca scoffed, standing up and shaking his head again. “Okay.”
“Everly is no longer your grid girl.”
He walked past him. Abbé’s hold on Dad’s arm was more of a comfort now than a restraint.
“Okay,” he said again as he opened the door and walked out.
And guilt made my heartbeat echo.
15
Chapter 15
Everly
Luca hadn’t come back. While everyone else returned to the hotel, I stayed behind to find him, but his trailer was empty.
So I did what I always did: walked the trailers, cross-referencing the notes on my phone from every race so far.
Though doing it in the dark felt far more suspicious.
And thrilling.
I was so close.
With Pedro refusing to help, I had no choice but to do it alone. And I would.
I crept between the trailers, sticking to the strip of shadow cast by the floodlights on the far end of the lot. Only a skeleton crew remained, completing final checks before we left tomorrow.
The cargo would be leaving later tonight. I had the schedule down now.
When the last metallic rattle of the shutters died out, I finally came out to analyse the seven Ciclati trailers.
They all looked the same: huge sheets of metal with large sponsors across in team colours. I only cared for the red and green Ciclati ones. Even slight differences in the weight could mean contraband was being transported.
On my phone, I scrolled through my photos, checking each trailer’s weight from the first night we landed, ready to compare.
They were all the same and I was losing hope until I found the rear-end of CICLATI 6.
1896kg.
