Page 49 of Female Fantasy
Once we’re done disinfecting the leather, I let out a tiny sigh of relief.
“I think we’ve put enough distance between ourselves and that garage. Once Thomas and Clarisse—or whatever their real names are—wake up from their drunken stupor and realize we’re missing, it’ll take them a hot second to find us,” I explain. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re in a stolen vehicle. Which means the police will be looking for us as well.”
Nico rubs at his beard in distress. “Wouldn’t the police finding us be a good thing? I mean, shouldn’t we call them anyway? We need to report what happened to us. Unless…do you think the Mob has the police in their pocket? No, what am I saying. This isn’tThe Godfather.”
I let out a strangled laugh, shaking my head.
“Nico, as a self-described cynic, you should know better than to trust the cops with something like this. I hot-wired the car. You really think they’re going to believe that some guy in a tracksuit picked us up on the side of the road and tried to kidnap us and that’s how we ended up lifting a Jaguar? Come on. That sounds totally made-up.”
“But we can point them to Tey’s truck,” Nico says, exasperated. “We can tell them about the garage!”
I roll my eyes.
White men.
“Nico. We have zero idea where the truck is. We don’t have our phones, so we can’t check maps. Even if we were to return to the garage, there’s zero chance those two are still hanging around. It’ll just look like we broke into some stranger’s garage, stole their gardening tools, and commandeered a sports car. We’ll look totally guilty.”
“So, what? We’re just going to pretend this never happened? That we were neverkidnapped?”
“Who is there to tell?”
“Um, I don’t know. Your brother?”
“Tey? He’ll just worry. Maybe Ollie can give us some legal advice. But why bother?”
His eyes widen as he processes everything I’m saying, his face growing red.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice soft, as I realize I haven’t checked in on him yet. “That was…traumatic, to say the least. I don’t blame you if you need a beat to process.”
He stares vacantly at me, as if the wordtraumaticis floating around in the space between us. After a minute or two, he nods, more to himself than to me.
“I’ll be okay, boss. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or what, but I want to keep going. What’s our next move?”
I smile at my new nickname.
Boss.
So much better thankid.
“For what it’s worth,” he adds, “I’m really, really, really sorry. Like, really sorry. I’m in total denial that any of it even happened. I don’t know how you’re not furious at me right now.”
“Nico,” I say. “You know you’re not responsible for the actions of others, right?”
He smiles, just a little. “Even if my moronic actions led to their actions?”
I look at him for a moment. “You did something monumentally stupid and out of character,” I finally say. “But your heart was in the right place.”
“Out of character, huh? Would you say I went a little bit off script, Joon?”
I roll my eyes. “We’ll figure out what to do about the money you owe and Kabobs ’n’ Bits later. First we need to dump the car here. Tomorrow, we’ll get some burner phones from a gas station, and then we’ll take a taxi to the train. Wait, do you still have your wallet?”
He checks his Jansport. “They took all my cash but left the cards.”
“Same. Probably because they knew they’d be easier to track.” I scrunch my nose, slightly impressed. I thought they were too dumb to realize something like that.
“So, that’s tomorrow,” says Nico. “What do we do tonight?”
I point into the distance. If I squint, I can make out a flashing red sign covered in a shroud of mist. “We walk to that motel over there and get some rest.”
