“What?” I ask, doing my best to ignore the hunger pangs.
“Are you strong enough to drive?” he asks back.
“Drive?” I give him my best “I don’t get it” expression.
He merely tilts his chin forward, so I follow the direction he indicates. Suddenly I can’t breathe. My heart performs a perfect cartwheel. I cover my open mouth with both hands, unwilling to believe what I’m seeing.
There on the sidewalk between two SUVs is a GT. She gleams in the morning light. Dark as night from fender to bumper, seated like a muscled and agile jungle cat at rest, waiting to be set free. Black twenty-inch wheels and midnight tint. On the side panels, she wears her silver badges proudly: a cobra coiled and ready to strike. Her name imprinted behind the snake, a proclamation to all who stare at her that she is no ordinary GT. That she is an animal thought extinct and brought back to life.
“Is that….” I stop to swallow the massive lump in my throat.
“A GT500 Super Snake? Yeah,” Mac says solemnly. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save the original.”
My heart squeezes.
“But we made absolutely sure this GT 2.0 is even better,” Screw quickly adds.
I return my gaze to the brand-new GT and push aside the sadness that surfaces from the loss of my precious car. There’s time. I can properly let go when I’m stronger. For now I have a meeting to get to. I assess my body, then look at the car. That much power needs proper handling. I’m not ready yet.
Making up my mind, I say, “Let’s leave her here for now and take the SUVs. I can properly introduce myself to her later.”
No one argues. Dare I say there might have even been an air of awe floating around us? The RC they used to know would have taken any opportunity to drive. I get a second chance on life, and this time I want to live it right. I love to drive. Racing will forever be part of my blood. But I also know there are other important things besides needing to feel the rush of barreling down a mountain path at a hundred kilometers per hour.
AT BITTERBLADE HQ, all chatter and party planning cease. Zamara called ahead and informs everyone her father is eagerly waiting for me at his receiving area. It’s rare for him to already be there before his intended guest. Usually he arrives late. Some sort of power play I don’t give a fuck about.
The tension among my group reaches a painful peak as soon as we leave the elevator. Brody hurries on ahead and punches the code so the door opens. He’s already in position at the side of the screen when the rest of us enter. Screw gently places me on my feet, and I attempt to kneel along with everyone else. The cast and my stiff muscles make the act awkward. Three months under sedation isn’t doing me any favors in the grace department. I’m as weak as a duckling.
“Please, RC,” the boss says. My head whips up. He has his hand up as if to stop me. One of the guards in the room with us produces a chair and helps me onto it.
I thank the guy. He nods, then escorts Zamara to her father’s side. She respectfully stands at the other side of the screen, opposite from Brody. Screw and Mac take up positions to my right while Bedlam and Ace kneel at my left. For a second I have a flash of being a queen from some far-off land, and by my side are my trusted advisers. Childish and foolish but fun nonetheless. A corner of my lips curves up. I’m starting to like this reborn RC more and more.
“Let me begin by extending my sincerest gratitude for saving my daughter’s life the night Star threatened it.” He pauses. “What you have done is invaluable and something I can never repay.”
I tilt my head. “I don’t understand. You handed me over to the underboss, saying I needed to make reparations to maintain peace.”
“This is where an apology is called for,” he says, bored as always.
“Father,” Zamara says, turning her head slightly toward him, “I think RC deserves a full explanation for why she had to go through what she did.”
A clearing of a throat. At first I thought it came from the boss, and then I notice Brody shifting slightly. Zamara rolls her eyes at him, unaffected by the warning. When her father speaks again, he doesn’t seem affected by his daughter’s words either. I’m pretty sure everyone in this room knows Zamara can do no wrong in the eyes of the most powerful man in Terra One.
“Yes, yes.” I see him nod through the screen. “When the killings increased in frequency, we received news of unrest among the families. There have even been rumors that much of this was caused by Halehorn’s men. Lies were being spread in an attempt to destabilize my rule. As you know, I couldn’t have confronted the underboss without proof.”
My mind worked on overdrive, putting the pieces together. Since Star’s father controlled a sizable force, the boss had to tread carefully. Accusing the underboss of inciting dissention is a one-way ticket to an all-out war. But one thing remains unclear.
“What does this have to do with my not being executed for killing Star?” I ask.
“What Brody left out when he spoke about Viper confessing is that he also confirmed the underboss knowing about his daughter’s actions,” the boss says.
My gaze shoots to my mentor, and he nods once, so I say, “Which means he really intended to use his daughter’s actions as a bid to seize power from you.”
“That is what we believed,” he confirms.
“Then why the ruse of giving me to him for punishment?” I can’t avoid the hint of bitterness in my voice. At my side, Bedlam growls. Now I understand why they had to sedate him. He would never have
