Page 86 of Kings & Corruption

It was a fucking work of art, and I felt giddy at the prospect of driving it.

My pulse quickened. Was I really going to do this? Steal one of the Kings’ cars and drive to Bellepoint? It’s not like I expected it to stay a secret. The car had twin turbo V-8 engines according to the spec stamped on the steering wheel.

It was going to make some noise.

Fuck it. I’d been a good girl since I’d gotten to Aventine. I’d followed the Kings’ stupid rules. I’d even played — was still playing — their stupid game.

They, on the other hand, hadn’t said another word about Emma since they’d agreed to help me find her, which meant I was on my own again. Might as well have some fun while I was at it.

I pressed the engine button and the car came to life, its initial roar settling into a sexy purr.

I clicked the button to open the garage and waited impatiently while the door slid open. As soon as there was enough room for the Maserati to make a clean exit, I shifted into reverse and punched it.

All the tension let loose inside me as the car glided out of the garage, and I laughed as I sped backwards onto the driveway. Adrenaline surged through my veins, although I couldn’t say whether it was from the power of the car or the fact that I’d stolen one of the Kings’ beloved cars right out from under their noses.

I glanced at the garage, half expecting to see Neo racing after me. But there was no one there, just the other cars lined up like expensive soldiers, the Maserati’s glaringly empty spot staring at me like an accusation.

The door was already closing and I shifted into drive and sped down the driveway. I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror all the way down the tree-lined drive, but no one followed.

I was still in the clear when I turned onto the main road, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I opened up the engine, giving it some serious gas on the straight stretch of asphalt leading away from the house.

I rolled down the windows and opened up the sunroof, then cranked the stereo, which had auto-paired with my phone. Music filled the car, and I glanced at the GPS I’d preset on my phone to give me the best directions to Bellepoint.

I was still learning my way around Blackwell Falls, and I didn’t want to waste time getting lost.

The weather had changed in the two weeks I’d been at Aventine. The leaves on the trees were tipped with red and orange, and the wind had the subtle bite of cold in spite of the golden light that blanketed everything.

Driving through the winding, sun-dappled roads leading to Bellepoint, I could almost forget where I was gong and why I was going there. Then I felt disloyal, like I almost always did when I felt good or happy or peaceful — anything but sadness about Emma.

The car was a high-performance animal encasing me in steel and leather, and I thought about the men who owned this car, men I increasingly wanted to bang. It was perfect for them, powerful and sexy as fuck.

Did I trust them? Hell no.

But in the privacy of my own thoughts, there was no denying that I wanted them.

Except for Neo. Sure, he was pretty in a hard, mean kind of way, like a piece of black granite that couldn’t hide its darkness in spite of its polish. But I preferred my men with at least an eyedropper’s amount of warmth, not to mention a heartbeat.

I glanced at the GPS, which cited my ETA at Bellepoint as less than ten minutes. I was settling back into the rest of the drive when movement caught my eye in the rearview mirror.

Another car was gaining on me on the otherwise empty road, the howl of its engine rising above even the music blaring inside the Maserati.

It was big and black, with tinted windows.

It was the Hummer.

Fuck.

I tried to see who was driving — that would give me some insight into how much trouble I was in — but the windows were tinted, the sun shining at an angle that obscured the driver’s face.

I looked at the speedometer and contemplated trying to outrun him, but I was already going way too fast — faster than I’d ever driven before — and the backroads were twisting and unfamiliar.

I kept at my normal speed instead. I was at least making it to Bellepoint. If the Kings wanted their precious car back, they could take it. I’d call an Uber or something to get back to the house.

But one way or another, I was going to talk to Nikki about my sister.

Except the Hummer didn’t stay at a safe distance, it sped up, riding the Maserati’s bumper.

Too close at this speed. Way too close.

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