I speed the Mustang in reverse gear down the one-way.
Three of the tail she brought follow me, two her.
I slap the intercom. We’re driving on both sides of the bridge, and I can see her between the beams and parked construction vehicles.
“Cass,” I say, “Let them come close; keep the speed, not faster. I’ll drift in between you and the tail as we did it in our first race. Keep your speed, stay on the right; I need some space to get her around. Whatever happens, do not break.”
“You won’t make that,” she says. “That crossing is too tight.”
“Cass,” I say. “Shut up and do what I tell you.”
And for once in her life, she does what I tell her.
I can see her pulling to the right.
The cops following her are at roughly four car lengths distance.
It will be a fucking close call, but I am pumped enough with adrenaline right now to give it my best try.
I rip the wheel around; the Mustang breaks loose with its front. I use its horsepower to spin it 180 degrees as I cross under the bridge sideways with my chest compressing from the forceful movement.
Its ass swirls onto the road Cass is on; I almost hit her.
There is no thought or feeling left in me, except for focus. I pull the Mustang straight, and the moment I catch her, I press the red NOS button at the exact moment where the cops following her crash into the ones following me.
“You are completely insane,” she says in a tone of complete disbelief.
“I have been told, yes,” I say as more adrenaline flushes my system and my hands get sweaty. Luckily, I am still wearing the gloves from the climb; otherwise, it would be hard to steer.
I fucking pulled that off, I realize in my mind.
A laugh escapes me because I can’t believe it's actually worse.
“Let’s get lost; you’ll follow my lead this time,” I tell Cass.
“No, I won’t,” she says, and I’m close to losing my mind. “We’ll have to disappear. And I know where.”
I roll my eyes, but follow her.
She leads me to Harlem. There, she turns into a warehouse block and speeds into a massive brick wall warehouse through a rolling gate that closes behind us.
We come to a halt in the empty hall.
I breathe in and out for a second before I pull off the mask.
Holy shit.
Goosebumps appear on my arms.
We fucking did it. We got out. It was so fucking close because of her fucking stubbornness.
I am relieved we made it, but I am so fucking mad at her. Mad for her solo, mad for trying to make it about her, mad about her territorial peeing.
I am so mad at her that I jump out of the car and attack her.
Maybe I have lost my mind, maybe it’s the pumped-up adrenaline body, maybe it’s just her.
“You are such a territorial dumbfucker!” I shout at her as I push her back. She’s at my throat immediately.