Page 12 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

She clucked her tongue and it took all my will to not look her way. “Who says I don’t?”

Before I could reply, she gunned the engine and shot across the lot

.

“Easy. What the actual fuck? You don’t drive a classic like that.”

“A classic?” Her giggle was surprisingly musical. Like windchimes or something, when they didn’t make my head hurt. “You had this truck in high school. How is it even still on the road? God, remember that time Kerry puked—” She gripped the wheel in tense fingers. “Never mind.”

Her name made my hackles rise. Nothing new there. Any mention of my sister and about fifty shields went up. But this time, I was more curious than annoyed.

I never had anyone to talk about her with. A blessing most of the time.

“Tell me.”

On the verge of exiting the lot, she braked and let out a long breath. “We drank until we got sick. Both of us. And then we climbed in the back to sleep it off, but—”

“In the back of what?” My eyebrows rose. “Not my truck?”

She jerked a shoulder. “It was a good place to crash without being disturbed, and you had taken the Fiesta to school. Why, I don’t know. That car sucked.”

“According to you, this truck sucks too. No taste. Keep going.”

“She woke up and got sick again. We cleaned it up. We did,” she insisted when I glared.

On the inside, I wasn’t pissed. I was greedy for snatches of my sister’s life. In a way, it kept her alive.

Yet I didn’t want Daisy collecting money for a charity in her name.

You don’t want people looking at you. Pitying you.

Caring, so you have no choice except to allow yourself to care back.

“I’m going to get out and we can switch seats.”

“Why? So you can drop me off here and speed away?” She shook her head, her stubborn chin lifting. “Nope.”

“This is my vehicle,” I said calmly. “I could have you arrested.”

“Want to see me in cuffs? Is that your kink, Osmond?”

More Osmond crap. I shut my eyes, and it wasn’t to keep my reaction to her question from telegraphing across my face. Entirely. “Ker told you my name.”

“Of course she did. We used to make fun of you with it. ‘Oh, Osmond won’t let me go out tonight. Mom’s sick, so he’s playing Daddy.’”

Again, her words were creating images in my head that didn’t belong there and had absolutely nothing to do with my sister.

Topic change time.

“I’m going three hours out of the city. Guarantee you won’t be able to handle the accommodations.”

“Is that so? What, too swanky for me?” She slapped her bare thigh and sparkles shimmered. “Surprise, I can clean up pretty well.”

I didn’t doubt it.

“Yeah, that’s it. Too swanky for you. Bet you don’t have any formal wear with you. Give me the keys.”

She turned off the truck. For a second, I thought she might actually do the adult thing and stop this forced hostage situation. Only it was my truck being held against her will, not me.

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