Chapter Fourteen
Fox
I had felt what I thought was wholeness before: a full tank of gasoline, fresh oil, my engine tuned just right.
That felt good, great even, but none of that compared to what surged through me as you held me, arms wrapped tight around me.
It filled the hollow spaces I hadn’t realized had formed while I was waiting.
While doubt had eaten into me like rust.
I held you just as tightly, pulling you closer as you kissed away the tears spilling over.
My shadow felt heavier, more solid; I wasn’t just something abandoned in the lot anymore.
I was just as real as you were. It was embarrassing, in a way, how quickly I leaned into you, how easily I let myself be comforted, but I had lied to you when you’d asked if I’d doubted you.
I was so scared you wouldn’t come, terrified that you didn’t think I was worth the trouble, that you might look at the situation, weigh the cost, and decide I wasn’t worth it.
You had a family, a job, a life that had made sense before I’d crashed into it.
And now you have a record because of me.
I pushed the guilt aside. None of that mattered now; you had come back for me. Now, we could drive out together, just as soon as you found my–
A faint metallic jingle cut through the moment, and Lai stepped into view, casually swinging my keys from his fingertip.
“Where did you get those?” You asked him.
Lai smirked, entirely too pleased with himself. “From the guard.”
I was impressed; I couldn’t have done that, not by myself. Al, though, looked worried. “Is the guard–?”
“Still alive,” Lai cut in, rolling his eyes. He flicked the keychain once, carelessly, before tossing it toward you. “I’m not an amateur.”
You caught it automatically, but you didn’t look convinced. Still, the keys were here. Freedom was suddenly tangible.
I should have been ecstatic.
I was, for a short while. The idea of leaving, of getting out of this place, of being back on the road with you, it surged through me so fast it almost drowned everything else out.
I was so eager to go with you that I’d nearly forgotten that I was the reason you were having to break me out at all, but the mention of the guard brought reality back to the front of my mind.
You were already on thin ice. One wrong move, and it wouldn’t just be a record.
It would be something you couldn’t walk back from.
Taking me now, stealing me, would only drag you deeper into trouble.
We would never be free. We’d always be looking over our shoulder, always one mistake away from being parted again.
My hand closed over your wrist, and you glanced up, confused.
“No,” I said. It came out rougher than I intended, but I didn’t loosen my grip.
“No?” You echoed, leaning back slightly to see me properly. “What do you mean, no?”
“I can’t go,” I forced the words out before I could second-guess them. “Not yet.”
Both you and Lai gave me the same look.
Shock. Disbelief. A shared suspicion that I had lost my mind in my time away from you.
“Suppose I wanted to be with you forever,” I explained quietly.
“Suppose I wanted to drive your family across the country. How could we do that if you had a warrant out, and I was marked as a stolen car? We wouldn’t even get out of the city, never mind the state.
If I want a future with you, something real, something lasting, we can’t start it by running.
You know it,” I said softly, my hand lifting to your cheek, thumb brushing along your skin.
“If you steal me now, we can never be free.”
You didn’t answer. Because you understood.
You knew it. I knew it. Lai knew it too.
“Fox, I can’t leave you,” you said, voice breaking on the words.
And I couldn’t let you go. Everything in me fought against it, every instinct screamed to take the keys, start the engine, and run. To choose us, consequences be damned.
But if we were going to be what I wanted us to be–mates for life–then that started with making the right choice now, while I still could.
“You told me I had to be good.” I sniffed, dreading the cold nights ahead of me before you could take me back home.
“Fox,” you pleaded again, moving closer this time, like proximity alone could change my mind.
I shook my head, even as it hurt. “There’s something I need from you, too. I can’t leave this place without him.” I lifted my hand, pointing toward the car that had kept me company when everything else felt too much: the Challenger, my one ally in this place.
Lai followed my finger, his gaze falling on the white muscle car. I nodded, encouraging him as he stepped towards the powerful vehicle, placing a hand against the Challenger’s hood.
Something changed the second Lai touched the old car. I felt it. Not physically, not the way I felt your hands on me, but something adjacent to touch, like traction slipping on wet asphalt.
A connection snapped into place. Lai stilled. The Challenger didn’t pull away. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
But I could see it.
Lai needed something like him. Something strong, grounded, something unafraid of pushing back against a threat.
And the Challenger, he needed someone who wouldn’t treat him like something fragile. Someone who would push him right back to the edge, and enjoy it the whole time.
I watched as the Challenger’s presence shifted. His lights flickered faintly, brighter than before, as Lai’s fingers traced along the edge of his mirror with awe.
“There will be an auction,” I said, drawing your attention back to me. “I don’t know when or where. But I know they won’t send me to scrap. I want you to buy me,” I continued, voice softer now, but no less certain. “Properly. No running. No hiding. And I want you to buy him, too.”
The words hung there for a second. It was a heavy price to ask. Ridiculous, maybe. But it was the right thing to do, and you had told me to be good.
You looked down at my keys in your hand, then back at me. Without a word, you loosened your grip, letting them fall back into my palm.
Trusting me to be good.
“I’ll visit,” you vowed. “Until then.”
I smiled, aching and hopeful at the same time.
“You better,” I said.