FIVE （B）: Taryn

FIVE (B)

TARYN

An hour later

I’m sitting in a freezing cold interrogation room and sipping a stale Coca Cola.

Apparently stealing a car from an airport is a felony, and even the “smartest” criminals know better than to risk going for the vehicles that sit directly under the cameras. I’ve also been told that they’re usually willing to negotiate for a lesser “breaking and entering” charge.

I can’t bear the thought of spending the holidays behind bars, though, and I’m ready to plead for mercy at any cost.

Even my dignity.

As I’m thinking about how long it would take for me to make a shank out of toilet paper, the door swings open and the police chief steps inside.

“Alright, Miss Stone,” he says. “Happy holidays. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you so much.” I let out a breath. “Thank you so freakin’ much!”

“Don’t thank me.” He ushers me out of the room. “Thank the vehicle owner. He declined to press charges.

My smile drops at the sight of James leaning against a wall and smirking.

“I think I’d rather take my chances in jail,” I mutter, walking forward.

“So, instead of showing up to work, you come here to steal my favorite car?” James asks.

“The Bugatti is your favorite car,” I correct him. “The Lamborghini isn’t even in your top five.”

He smiles. “Would you like a ride back to headquarters?”

“No, I just want to get my luggage out of your trunk and find a way to get to Colorado.” I brace for a taste of his sarcasm, but he doesn’t serve any. Instead, he presses the elevator button and motions for me to step on first.

I avoid his gaze as we return to the garage, and for some strange reason, the key fob works perfectly for him.

“For the record,” he says, “This isn't the type of car you take on a road trip.”

“You think it’s too luxurious?”

“It only gets sixteen miles a gallon."

"So, why the hell would anyone buy it?"

“The bigger question is why you were trying to steal it.”

“I’m just looking for any way to get home for Christmas,” I say. “I’ll check the ride-share drivers downstairs to see if one of them is willing to take me.”

“You do know that you’re blatantly going against your boss’s request to stay here and work, correct?”

“No, I had no idea.” I pick up my purse. “As much as I would love to stand here and continue talking to you, I hate you, so bye.”

“You can use my Audi," he says pressing the key fob.

A soft chirping sound echoes through the garage, and the lights on a beautiful dark grey crossover flash across from us.

“What's the catch?” I ask.

“I get to drive with you.”

“ What ?”

“We can switch every two hundred miles or so, but I have to drive first.” He pauses. “My flight was cancelled as well, so I’m getting my luggage brought down here.”

Where are you headed?

“The Four Seasons in Colorado Springs.” He reads my mind. “It's half an hour away from where you're going, correct?”

“Yeah, but…Can’t you let me drive one of the other company cars instead? Like, by myself?”

“Take my offer ‘as-is’ or leave it.”

“I need ten minutes to think.”

“Okay.” He leans against the car. “I’ll wait.”