Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)
Michael stepped forward, looking left then right. “Now,” he said.
“Go, go, go!” Max Cason shouted into the wind, his head sticking out my passenger side window.
A half hour later, fourteen cars, trucks, and motorcycles were on their way, packed to the breaking point with every player on our team, some of their girlfriends, and a few just along for the fun. The school didn’t stop us or anyone from leaving for what had quickly become a Devil’s Night tradition to boost team camaraderie and morale.
Storming the school at two in the afternoon to kick it all off had turned into one of my favorite parts of the night. Barging into classrooms, grabbing my fellow basketball players—and whomever else we wanted—and dragging everyone out of school was like an amphetamine to the brain. We had everyone’s attention, their awe, and sometimes, their fear. It was power, and for one night a year, we enjoyed a limitless supply of it. Teachers didn’t stop us, cops stood aside, and for a while, I really loved being me.
Everyone wanted to be us.
Will’s black Ford Raptor drove in front of me, and all the guys in the bed of his truck laughed and shouted out with beers in their hands already. Some of them had water bottles filled with a clear liquor, which was an interesting tactic to drink in class. As long as it looked like water, teachers never knew the difference.
With my mask tucked on the console beside me, I shifted into sixth, racing ahead and following Will. Damon led the motorcade, and I glanced to my left, seeing Gavin Ellison speed past on his motorcycle with his girlfriend sitting behind him and her arms wrapped around him.
Damon must’ve seen him coming out of his rearview mirror, because just as Gavin sped up to overtake Damon’s BMW, Damon swerved left, blocking his path. I laughed to myself, but then I spotted a kid on a bike, inches from Damon’s car, swerve and fall to the side of the road, and my face fell.
“What the hell?” I barked, pressing my foot lightly on the brake to slow down.
The kid tumbled to the ground, spilling down the small incline, and his bike crashed into the grass.
And Damon and the motorcycle just fucking kept going.
Goddamn him.
I broke harder, slowing the Jeep to a stop and seeing Will’s brake lights glow red ahead of me. I shifted into neutral and yanked up the parking brake, hopping out of the car.
I glared at the road ahead, seeing Damon and the motorcycle still racing in the distance. Did it even occur to him to fucking stop?
“Damon’s such an asshole.” Will looked back at me, jumping down from his cab and taking a bite of the beef jerky in his hand.
A few of the guys from the bed of his truck hopped out, too, and Will walked up to where the kid fell, bending down to help him up.
“You okay?”
The kid sat on his hands and knees, and I approached, catching glimpses of him through the guys’ legs as he moved around, grabbing books that laid strewn on the side of the road. I didn’t hear him answer, and I couldn’t see his face.
Will scooped up two books that had fallen, and I caught sight of
a basket on the front of the bike.
“I said I’m fine,” the kid spat out, and I stopped, seeing a baseball cap fall to the ground.
Long, dark hair suddenly went wild, blowing in the high winds, and I made out a slender face and full lips.
It was a girl.
Dressed kind of like us, though, wearing jeans and a navy blue hoodie.
She reached over, keeping her head down and her eyes shielded by her hair as she grabbed the books out of Will’s hands.
She seemed fine. We could go.
“I’ve seen you around before, haven’t I?” Will asked, bending over to pick up her bike. “You live around here? We can take you home. Get in.”
“No.” She shot out her hands, stopping him from touching her bike. “I said I was fine. Just leave. Please.”
I narrowed my eyes on her, stepping closer.
Just then a couple guys picked up some of her books and showed them to each other, laughing. She stilled, staring at the ground. Her jeans were filthy. Dark smudges covered the knees, but I didn’t see any blood. I didn’t think she was hurt.