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THE TINY LIGHTS BLINK back at her from the dashboard. 22:58.

Okay.

Beside her, Cadillac exhales shakily, and then casts her a hesitant look. Shadows frame his jawline, traipsing across his face to barely conceal a frown. "Dime. What is going on?"

"I don't know," she admits, her gaze falling to the small burner phone. They'd kept it, and honestly, it might help pull this together in the most beautifully vengeful way. It might make it burn even worse.

Fuck. Maybe she is a spiteful bitch.

A weak smile curls at her lips as she toys with it absentmindedly, riding out each bump and crack with an unnerving patience. Because she's waiting for him to call, and that tiny part of her, that cold, cruel part of her that drew her to Blue, knows that he won't. No. Blue is a smarter than that.

"I don't know if he'll know where we are."

Another sharp intake of breath. Cadillac spares her a skeptical look before huffing quietly. "Well, did anyone else know about this plan? Or are you just making it up on the spot?"

There's something buried beneath the faint frustration, a sliver of disbelief and awe tangled into unmistakeable respect, and it makes her dizzy. Cadillac is still... with her.

If nothing else goes smoothly, at least she has that.

"Why?" A teasing smile flirts at her lips. "Wouldn't it be nice, Ramón? Just me and you?"

For a moment, it's only them—a fragile fantasy of running, escaping with millions of crystals and nothing, no one, else. Time seems to slow, and it leaves her breathless, waiting, waiting, waiting for his response.

Would he?

His foot eases off the gas, and as they drift through another intersection smoothly, Cadillac swivels to stare at her in the haze of diluted moonlight. "Is that... is that your new plan?"

Her heart skips. "What if it was? What if we could do it?"

They could.

"Would you..." she fumbles in the silence. When did she start caring about what he thought of her? When did this become such a fucking mess? "Would you think I was a heartless bitch if I left everyone behind?"

"You and me and 3 million crystals," he muses, mulling over the thought, the fantasy, with a wistful edge in his voice. "No sé. Are we on an island?"

Too many images flash beneath her eyelids, a flood of orange and red sunsets, salt and sand in their hair, sultry air kissing bare skin. Warmth floods through her cheeks. "We could go anywhere, Ramón."

"Well, first, before I start imagining sex on a beach," he snickers, steering his gaze back to the road, "do you have a way to get this fucking star out of the city?"

"Yeah." Más o menos. Maybe. "I do."

"I think... maybe... I should know." One harsh step on the gas sends them soaring through another intersection on 10th. Close. "How far north am I going?"

Her nails dig into the phone. There is no going back. This is Plan C. This is it. "57th. Take a left on 57th."

"Left." Understanding dawns on him. Cadillac shakes his head, cursing under his breath. "The fucking Piers."

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