Some logical part of my brain recognized there were plenty of other smaller, non-grand theft auto things I could do to get the adrenaline rush I craved, but I’d always been a go big or go home sort of girl. And I was determined to drag Travis right along with me. A little bit because he was the only person who liked me enough to agree to such a stupid idea, but mostly because I wanted him to feel the rush at least once before we graduated high school.
All things considered, I was practically doing him a service.
The car’s lights flashed as it swung wide into the other lane and shot past, tires squealing.
“Jackass,” I muttered.
“Do you think they know what we’re doing?” Travis asked in a voice pitched two octaves higher than normal.
“Calm down. This will be fun.”
“Fun?” he squeaked. “You think stealing a car is fun?”
I sighed. “Need I remind you that you agreed to this over a month ago? And besides, we’re not stealing. We’re just… starting. It’s not like we’re going to drive it anywhere.” Probably not, I added silently.
“What if we get caught?”
“Then I’ll take all the blame, just like I told you yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.” The corners of my mouth tightened. “You know Travis, if you didn’t want to come you didn’t have to. I’m not twisting your arm or anything.”
“Uh, you kind of are.”
I looked down and saw my fingers were, in fact, making little red marks on his skin. “Oh shit,” I said, immediately letting go. “Sorry.”
He rubbed his arm and managed a weak smile. “It’s okay. A little nervous too, huh?”
“I’m not nervous,” I scoffed. “This is going to be easy.”
“Yeah, I bet that’s exactly what everyone sitting in jail said before the police showed up.”
I shot him The Look. He made The Face but stopped talking. We walked right past the Livingston’s driveway, just like we’d planned, and went to the next street up before we turned around and walked back down. Just two teenagers. Out for a stroll. One dressed in black and the other on his way to debate team practice. Nothing suspicious to be seen here.
As it had been every night for the past two weeks straight, the sedan was sitting right in the middle of the Livingston’s driveway. The house loomed over it, every curtain drawn and every light turned off except for the one on the front porch. A line of meticulously tended shrubbery blocked our view of the neighbors and, hopefully, their view of us. I was more worried about being caught by a curious neighbor than the Livingston’s. The way the driveway was situated, someone from inside the house would only be able to see us if they opened the front door and looked to the left. Something which I was sincerely hoping they didn’t do.
I slinked up to the driver’s side door with Travis hovering just over my right shoulder, his breath hot on the back of my neck.
“Okay,” I said, mostly to myself. “Okay. First step is to get into the car without setting off the alarm. Travis, hand me the wedge and the coat hanger.” I held out my hand expectantly. Flexed my fingers. “Travis? Travis!”
“I don’t think it’s locked,” he whispered. “The little nub is up.”
“Of course it’s locked. What idiot doesn’t lock their car?”
“We’re not in Green Lane, Lola,” he said, referring to my shitty ass apartment complex. “No one locks their cars here.”
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to count to three. The last thing I wanted to do was lose my temper. “Travis, just give me the damn wedge and–”
Instead Travis reached past me and opened the door. His teeth flashed white in the encroaching darkness. “See?” he said triumphantly. “Told you.”
I bumped him out of the way with my hip. “Whatever. So these people aren’t the brightest. It’s not as if they – damn it!”
“What? What? What is it? Is someone coming?” Travis flattened himself against the side of the car and dropped to the ground with his hands over his head as though I’d just announced the Soviet Union was gearing up for a second Cold War. It would have been hilarious if I wasn’t so angry.
“He left the keys in the ignition!” Stupid rich families with their fancy nameplates and their antique houses and their top safety pick cars and their perfect lives. They deserved to have their shit stolen. They really did.
“That’s too bad,” Travis said, making no attempt to disguise his relief. He stood up and made a grab for my elbow, but I snatched my arm out of reach.
“No,” I said stubbornly. “We’re not leaving yet.”
“Lola... if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking –”
“I think we said we were going to steal a car,” I interrupted, “and that is exactly what we’re going to do. Now get in.”
“Get in?” He gaped at me. “Uh uh. No way. You said we were just going to hot wire it, not drive it. You promised.”
I felt an irrational surge of anger. This wasn’t turning out anything like I thought it would. We were supposed to break in the car, start it, and drive off into the sunset like a modern day Bonnie and Clyde. Why? Because I can.
Except now the car wasn’t locked, the stupid keys were in the frickin’ ignition, and my partner in crime had turned chicken.
Flipping my long black hair behind my shoulder I slid smoothly into the front seat and turned the key. The car started with a quiet purr and my anger kicked over to adrenaline. It pumped through my veins, a better high than any stupid cigarette could give me.
Rolling down the window I leaned out and grinned at Travis who stared down at me in slack jawed disbelief. “Want to go for a ride, sugar?” I asked in my best southern drawl.
“No.”
“Get in, Travis.”
“We are so going to jail,” he whimpered before he ran around the back of the car and more or less fell into the passenger seat.
I grinned recklessly as I put the car in reverse and started to glide down the driveway. “They don’t put straight A students with full scholarships to Princeton in jail, my friend. You’re safe. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t want you to go to jail either.”
I glanced over at him. His face was white as a sheet and he had both hands braced against the dashboard, but he was doing it. He was here. I sighed. Damn it.
“What are you doing?” he asked as I tapped the brakes and slid the car into drive at the bottom of the driveway. “Lola? What’s going on?”
“We drove a stolen car, didn’t we?” I said, beyond disgusted with how the entire thing had turned out. “Now we’re putting it back. You can add it to your–”
A huge crash from inside the house cut me off. With my heart pounding, I pulled the car back up to exactly where it had been (more or less) and killed the engine. Without needing to say anything, both Travis and I hunched down as low as we could in our seats. After ten breathless seconds of absolutely silence I saw the whites of his eyes flash as he turned his head to glare at me.
“What was that?” he hissed.
“Why are you asking me?”
“We have to get out of here. We have to run. We have to run away and never say a word about this to anyone.”
I sucked on the inside of my cheek, considering our options before I said, “We can’t go yet.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Because, dummy, if we open up the doors the little lights will go on and they’ll know we’re out here.” It wasn’t something I had thought about until just this minute. I guess part of me always imagined that Mr. and Mrs. Livingston of 233 Turner Street wouldn’t be home when we tried to steal their car. A stupid assumption, since if they were gone chances were they would have taken their car with them. I really needed to think these things through more.
Trying not to panic, I sat up just enough to see the front of the house. All of the lights were still out which was weird, because I knew I’d heard something fall over inside. Maybe they had a dog. Or
a giant cat. Maybe they really weren’t home.
“What are you waiting for, Lola? Just turn the interior lights off and let’s get out of here,” Travis said.
I drew in a deep breath. I had really been hoping to avoid this part. Tilting my head back, I glanced up at the ceiling, hoping there would be some kind of switch like there was in my dad’s old beat up car. But there wasn’t. Of course there wasn’t. “I kind of… uh… don’t know how.”
“Lola,” he said in an oddly strained voice. “What are you talking about?”
Oh boy.
“I’ve never exactly driven a car before and I don’t know how,” I admitted. Honestly, it was a miracle I had managed to get it in reverse and back down the driveway without smashing into something. Travis should have been grateful.
For one split second there was absolute silence.
And then…
“WHAT?”
“Shut up!” In the darkness I found his mouth and slapped my hand over it. “I wasn’t planning on actually driving it anywhere,” I said defensively. Thank God it was almost completely dark outside, or else Travis would have seen my face had turned tomato red. “I just… I just wanted to do something exciting. That’s all. Are you going to be quiet now?”
He nodded his head, which I took to mean ‘yes’, and I slowly withdrew my hand.
“You’re insane,” he said the second his mouth was uncovered. “Absolutely nuts. You told me you got your driver’s license six months ago.”
“I lied. I don’t even have my permit.”
“Don’t even… No permit… Crazy…” He continued to sputter out random words while I snuck another look at the house. Still no lights. That decided it. The Livingston’s were either asleep or not home. The loud noise must have been made by a pet knocking something over.
We were in the clear.
“Let’s go.” I opened the door and shut it silently behind me, holding extra long to the handle so there wasn’t even a click as it went back into place. The lights inside the car popped on, just like I thought they would, glaring brightly in the darkness and illuminating the interior of the sedan. Glaring at Travis through the window, I lifted my arm and tapped my wrist, the universal signal for hurry your ass up.
Travis, being Travis, scrambled across the center console and spilled out of the driver’s side door, landing hard on his hands and knees. Grabbing his elbow, I hauled him up to his feet. He dusted himself off and straightened up, still angry, but at least capable of talking coherently again.
“I hate you,” he said succinctly.
“Where is your backpack?”
His head swiveled around in both directions as he tried to look over his shoulder.
“You left it in the car, didn’t you?”
“Shut up,” he mumbled.
“Go grab it. I’ll keep a lookout. Then we are – did you hear that?” I whirled towards the house.
“Hear what? I don’t hear anything.”
“It sounded like… a cry for help,” I decided. My gaze flicked to the left, then to right. For the first time I noticed something very peculiar. The Livingston’s weren’t the only ones with all of their lights turned off. In fact, every house running up and down both sides of the street was dark inside. Weird. I knew some people went to bed early, but everyone on an entire block going to sleep before nine?
I frowned at Travis. “You really didn’t hear that?”
“I told you I didn’t hear–”
But Travis never got finish what he going to say as a blood curdling scream the likes of which I had never heard outside of a horror movie tore through the night.
CHAPTER TWO
I Knock on a Door
“Did you hear that?” I asked Travis.
“We have to c-call the police,” he stuttered, looking physically ill. I couldn’t blame him. I was feeling a little queasy myself. A human being didn’t make a noise like the one we had just heard unless they were in some serious pain. Still, we weren’t exactly in a position to alert the authorities.
“And tell them what? We were about to steal some guy’s car when we heard him scream? No way,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s dumb.”
Travis staggered over to the side of the driveway and sank down on his haunches. “Bad idea,” he said to himself. “I knew this was a bad, bad idea. Lame, man. Really lame.”
“What if we call your mom?” I suggested.
Genuine terror filled Travis’ eyes. “No way. Absolutely not. I would rather go into the house myself.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and rubbed my hands together. “Let’s do it then. Let’s go. I’ll knock on the front door and you go around back and look in the windows. We can’t just leave without doing anything.”
Travis groaned. “I would rather steal the car.”
“Saving a guy’s life from a psycho axe murderer is so much cooler than stealing a car. We’ll be famous. The Livingston’s will probably give us a reward or something.” With one hundred dollar bills dancing in from of my eyes I started towards the front door with the self-assured arrogance of the very young and the very stupid. The stone walkway was illuminated with tiny round ground lights, making it easy to navigate. Behind me I heard a loud sigh and then the noisy shuffle of Travis’s sneakers as he caught up.
“This is such a bad idea,” he complained in a loud whisper. “What if there really is an axe murderer or, you know, a robber or something?”
“Then I’ll use my cell and call the police.”
“Why not call the police now?”
“Because we’re right here.” And we were. The front door loomed in front of me, a silent taunt to go ahead and prove my mettle. I raised my fist to knock. Hesitated. Glanced at Travis. “Go around back and see if you can see anything.”
He looked at me like I was nuts. “Don’t you know the first rule of not getting killed by a crazy axe murderer? You never split up.”
Since Travis was the horror movie guru, I decided to take his word for it. “If someone opens this door,” I hissed out of the corner of my mouth, “and pulls me inside you better have my back. Got it?”
“Got it.”
I felt his hand press down on my shoulder and I took another deep breath.
’Why are you knocking on a stranger’s door after you heard screaming coming from inside, Lola?’ asked the rational side of my brain.
Because I can, the reckless part replied.
I knocked on the door.
CHAPTER THREE
Travis Doesn’t Listen Very Well
The door swung silently open under the weight of my fist. I jumped back like a scalded cat and bumped into Travis who went flying into a flowerbed. He must have landed on one of the creepy garden gnomes because he released a totally embarrassing high-pitched squeal before he scrambled to his feet and staggered back over to me. From the dim overhead porch light I could see dirt smeared on his left cheek and pieces of grass clinging to his hair. Reaching out I plucked half a petunia from behind his ear and rolled my eyes.
“You would never make a good spy.”
“That’s because I don’t want to be a spy,” he gritted out. “I want to be an accountant!”
“Same thing.”
“It is not the same thing at all! It is the furthest thing… from…. oh.” His voice trailed away as his gaze went past me to the open door. “Hello,” he finished weakly.
I whirled around and, for the first time in my life, was rendered absolutely and completely speechless. Standing in the doorway was the largest man I had ever seen.
He wasn’t large height wise. Rather, he was large all over in the way those wrestlers were on TV. You know, the ones who hit each other with chairs and make lots of grunting noises. His entire body filled the door frame, making it impossible to see past him into the house. A leather jacket, totally not PETA approved, enveloped his upper body and came all the way down to his knees. His hair was white blond and slicked back from his face with some kind of oil.
His eyes were a pale, eerie blue. Gold rings flashed on his hands when he crossed his arms in front of his barrel-sized chest and growled, “Can I help you?”
Surprisingly it was Travis who recovered first from the initial shock of come face to face with Giant Man. “We – uh – heard a weird – uh – noise and we’re just – uh –”
“Why are you not in your houses?” Giant Man interjected in a deep, rumbling voice. He narrowed his icy blue eyes as he looked us up and down in turn. One side of his mouth lifted in a snarl. “You should be in your houses.”
When Travis’ mouth gaped open and closed like a fish gasping for air, I stepped in. “Where is Mr. Livingston?”
“I am Mr. Livingston.” Giant Man grinned, revealing gleaming white teeth that I instinctively flinched away from. I was trying to look him in the eyes to show him I wasn’t afraid even though his ham sized fists could do some serious damage to my internal organs, but for some reason it physically wasn’t working. I could stare into his ice blue eyes for half a second before something in my brain short circuited and I had to look away, the pain not unlike trying to stare directly at the sun. Within seconds my head was throbbing and my stomach was twisted into one greasy, pulsating knot.
Giant Man’s sneer widened into a smile.
“Would you like to come into the house?” he asked, gesturing broadly with one tree trunk sized arm. “You and your companion are not very looking well.”
“What?” I gaped at him. Did the guy think I was an idiot? I might have been prepared to steal a car but this… this was something else entirely. The man was dangerous. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. And there was no way in hell I was accepting his invitation. “Of course we’re not going inside, who do you take us for complete–”
“We would love to come in,” Travis said.
“What?” I repeated, although this time it came out as more of a strangled yelp. I tried to grab Travis’ arm but he shook free with surprising force. Giant Man stepped to the side, and Travis walked straight through the door.
The Lola Chronicles (Book 1): A Night Without Stars Page 2
