It takes me five minutes to get my shit together, which has to be a new record. Something about sitting in Harmon Stone’s garage sobbing like a baby feels weird. So, I wipe my eyes, clear my throat, and pick up the key to shove into the ignition.
Which is when I realize there is no key and there is no ignition. I bring the clicker closer to my face to inspect. I’d assumed it was one of those that you press the button and the key pops out like a switch blade.
Nope.
But even if it was, if there was some secret code to get into it, where the hell do I stick it?
I lean to the side to get a better look. Maybe it’s in a different spot? Higher than I thought? Lower? I don’t know. I don’t see it though.
What I do see is a button that says Start/Stop.
Could that be it? Guess it’s worth a try. I push it, and a message pops up on the screen telling me to put my foot on the break.
Duh, Cass. Duh.
I step on the brake then push the button, and it starts right up.
“No fucking shit,” I say with a laugh.
I spend a few minutes familiarizing myself with the car, setting the seat in the right position, along with the mirrors. I play with the screen, which shows a GPS, so I use it since I have no idea how to get home from here. Then it asks if I want to connect my phone, but I ignore that for now. Let me set up the phone before I try pairing it with this car. There’s also a pop-up about activating Veil, but I have no idea what that is, so I press no—I’ll figure that out another time.
Once everything is all set, I ease out of the spot, and drive like a grandma all the way home.
I don’t know if they do it to save space or because they think people living in trailers can’t afford cars. Either way, not having a parking spot is a pain in the ass. Something I never realized was an issue until right this moment.
I’ve never had a car before. Never. Not my own. Not someone’s to borrow. The only reason I got my driver’s license was because I assumed I could get a job as a delivery boy. Placesusedtohave cars for you to drive, but now they make you use your own so that went out the damn window. Still, it was nice having it anyway. Convenient. Just in case.
Our front yard isn’t much of a front yard. It’s been a long time since grass has grown there, so it’ll be as good a parking spot as any. By the time I get out of the car and round the front of it, Cammy is standing in the doorway, eyes wide.
“What the fuck did you do for this?” she asks, stepping onto the porch.
“Suffered years at the hands of the witch.”
Her eyes are still wide as she comes closer to the car.
“Seriously. What did you agree to?” She looks at me over her shoulder before peeking into the car window. “Did you sell your soul? Make a deal to give up your first born?”
“Hmm, neither? But I would have considered both.”
She turns to me, raising a brow and crossing her arms.
“Look, I don’t even know why he gave it to me.”
“Gave it to you?!”
“Well, let meborrowit. It’s not mine. It’s a loaner. Apparently, he’s generous. That’s what his assistant said.”
“Hisassistant?”
“Yeah, he’s like this big CEO of this big watch company. I had to sign an NDA, so I can’t tell you anything, but I can tell you there is no sex involved.”
Her eyes narrow. “That’s creepy.”
“Huh?”
She throws her arms up. “Sex is easy. It’s normal. What kind of weird shit is he into if it isn’t sex?” She steps closer to me, putting her finger in my face. “I swear, if I find you in a hole in his floor, naked, I will kill him.”
“Thanks for the support, but I don’t think he’s into that.”