Chasing Impossible - Katie McGarry Page 0,19

them staring me down could be the hunters.

Survival instincts flood my system and all the two million thoughts I’d been having streamline into one—I need to disappear.

A group of boys maneuver past me. I push off the wall, slip into the middle, and walk with them the several feet needed to reach the exit. The moment I’m out I’m texting the only piece around not knowingly playing the game: I’ll meet you halfway. I need out of here.

It’s after midnight and the sidewalk outside the bar is still packed with people willing to party. There are a ton of bars on this strip of road and they don’t host teen nights.

I asked the narc if he was a child of the night. Am I? I don’t know. I love summer nights. I love the heat rolling off the sidewalk. I love the humidity hanging in the air. I love the dark.

It doesn’t scare me. It’s the people who smile at you during the day while plunging a knife in your back that are the monsters. It’s bills I can’t pay. It’s systems that fail. It’s people preying upon the weak who fill my nightmares.

My phone rings and I accept it when I spot Logan’s face. “What?”

“You never listen.”

“I like walking. Fills my lungs with oxygen. It’s good for the circulatory system. Healthy and all that shit.”

“I told you to stay put.” I can imagine that serious expression on his face. The one where his dark eyes blow into storm clouds and everything about him becomes clipped. It’s not a huge change, it’s subtle, but I’ve memorized it.

“Miss me?” I tease because that’s more comfortable than focusing on terror. “Because I missed you, and I wanted to see you faster.”

“What happened to your plan?”

“It changed.”

“You in danger?”

Yes. “You’re cute. I forgot I’m not capable of walking down a street by myself. Just a friendly stroll and you’ll pick me up along the way.”

“You sound scared.”

As I’m scanning the crowd a flash of anger joins the fear he’s hearing. “Bite me, Logan.”

“I don’t like you on the open street.”

“Well, life fucking sucks.” I pause and switch mental directions. “You don’t want bullshit—how’s this? I’m in deep and I don’t even know what I’m dealing with.”

Logan’s silent, and I pray he’s struggling with how to tell me he’s leaving and heading home, but another part of me begs him to stay. Without a ride, I’m an easy target. My need to live and my need to protect him are colliding in my brain.

“Move!” A loud horn blaring from his end and I check out the road. It’s bumper-to-bumper. People coming into the area to party, people leaving the area to party. He won’t get here. He won’t reach me fast enough.

“I’ll come on foot,” he says.

“Don’t,” and I make no attempt to mask the fear. “You need to get as far from me as you can.”

“Do you know what I want?”

I’m betting not being in a messed-up, chemistry—based relationship with a drug dealer is currently at the top of his list. “What?”

“Quiet.”

My feet freeze on the sidewalk and a strange eerie sensation crawls along my spine. There’s an exhaustion in Logan’s voice I’ve never heard before and my mind ticks back to Rachel’s original text. Something’s wrong. Beyond me. Beyond my problems. “If you want quiet, you should go home.”

“It’s loud there, Abby. There might not be sound, but it’s still loud. All I want right now is to find you, and drive along some dark county roads. What do you say to that? Me, you, a dark night, and some quiet stars.”

An ache ripples through me. It sounds like the devil is mocking me with my idea of heaven because dreams don’t become reality for girls like me.

“Abby?” he asks. “Still there.”

Hang up. Mock him. Laugh. Make a joke. Tease. Lie.

Lie.

Lie, Abby. That’s what you’re best at. Lie.

“That sounds good.” It’s a whisper and by the relieved intake of air on his part, Logan heard it.

“You didn’t listen, did you?” he asks, and I’m grateful for his normal, condescending tone. “You were told to stay home and you didn’t listen.”

“Do you think I do what people tell me on a regular basis? That’s one step away from being a trained monkey and if you remember, I don’t like trained monkeys. Not since that one bit you in fifth grade. You said the rabies shots were a bitch.”

Logan snorts and an engine rumbles in the background. “Which side of the road are you

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