Page 85 of Heresy

I always do that immediately.

Except I’m so fucking distracted by everything else going on that I’m forgetting the most basic safety measures.

“Thanks for the reminder,” I mutter while pulling the seatbelt in place.

After pulling her belt in place and locking it into the latch, she starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.

Instead of turning left towards town where most of the restaurants are, Ames turns right.

“Where are we going?”

Before answering me, she fishes around in the center console and pulls out a pair of sunglasses. Slipping them on, she keeps her eyes on the road.

“Granger took me to this out of the way place a little over a week ago. It’s near where he lives. The food is fucking fabulous, and it’s only fifteen minutes farther than town. You’ll love it. I promise.”

Okay. This is weird. I’ve never been in a car with Ames driving. I can’t help but peek over at the speedometer to see we’re going twenty over the limit.

“You should slow down, Ames. You’ll get a ticket.”

She laughs. “On this road? Brin, there’s barely anything around once you get far enough away from the campus. I highly doubt cops are just hiding behind trees, waiting to catch speeders.

Glancing at the scenery, I soon realize she’s not wrong.

After ten minutes of driving, the buildings lining the street become sparse, the stretch of road only lined by stands of trees here and there. Every so often a car passes by, but traffic is sparse as well.

I begin to relax for the first time since being at the auto shop.

“So,” she says, disrupting my peace, “why have you been hiding? Did something happen? And when do you get your car back?”

Lying to her would be stupid. She’d see through it, so instead, I come up with a way to answer her specific questions with generalized answers. That way, technically, they’re not lies.

Priest taught me that trick, not that I’m thankful for him doing so.

“There’s a bunch of stuff wrong with my car, so I have no idea when it’ll be fixed.”

Just as I finish that statement, two motorcycles turn onto the road behind us, their engines loud and obnoxious. Ames doesn’t notice them. She’s too busy giving me the third degree.

“Okay, so that explains your car. But why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

Another generalized answer. Something she can’t argue.

“I have a lot of studying to do. School always keeps me busy.”

Ames eyes me but then lifts her gaze to the rearview mirror.

“Those bikes are getting pretty close. I can barely hear you over their engines.”

Checking out the side mirror, I can only see one of them. I twist in my seat to look behind us. The bikes are sharing the lane and riding parallel to each other.

“I’m going to speed up to put some distance between us.”

We’re already speeding, so the quick acceleration makes me nervous. Peeking at the speedometer again, I swallow a knot in my throat to see Ames is going thirty over the limit.

“Slow down, Ames.”

“It’s fine,” she says with a quick glance in my direction. “See, the bikes are much farther away now, and I can hear you again.”

In the distance, a black car approaches from the opposite direction. It’s not close enough to make out, but the sunlight glints off its hood. The only reason I notice it is the sound of its loud engine joining the rumble of the bikes behind us.

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