After the interview at the station, Lexington and I are seated in his Mustang while Gabe follows us in a black Audi, close enough to help if something were to go wrong. We probably should have just ridden in Gabe's car, but although Lexington wouldn't admit it, I know he feels as caged in as I do, right now. The transmogrification of our lives is almost hilarious. Almost.
I text Lenore and Nic letting them know that we're on our way back from the station before tucking my phone into the side of my bra. My short Prada dress doesn't have pockets meaning my bra is doubling as a fanny pack at the moment, holding my phone, ID, and debit card.
Pulling into the neighborhood where our gated community lies, we were instantly aware of a caravan of black SUVs rushing up beside us. One in the middle of the group jerks to the side, running Gabe's Audi off the road onto a curb before pulling up in front of his car, ultimately preventing him from going forward.
