Jack’s smile grew wider. “Why are we in this piece of crap?” he asked, kicking the back of the seat. “I think someone threw up back here.”

“Because I normally wouldn’t touch it, and the less I am of myself, the longer I’ll survive,” she said sarcastically as she tucked the Glock away. If he left now, she’d let him get halfway across the parking lot before she shot him in the back—the government’s high-Q drones dropping in and out be damned.

The satchel was beside her, and she moved it to the floor out of Jack’s easy reach. It shouldn’t take this long to turn bills to p-cash, and worry tightened her shoulders. “Why did you agree to take Michael’s place at the arena?” she finally asked.

“Ahh, thinking at last, eh?” he said, eyeing her from under his lowered brow.

“Never mind,” she muttered, turning her back on him.

“Aww, come on, Peri,” he coaxed as he leaned over the seat again. “Don’t you get it? I’m not here for Bill. I’m here for you. After you get your Evocane from LB, why don’t we just run?”

“Run?” she said bitterly as she fingered her coat’s zipper. The familiar scent of Jack’s aftershave plinked through her, triggering half memories that lingered to feed her doubt. They’d been good together. It was in the way he knew just what to say; she had sensed it when they had escaped. She could feel it in her soul as clearly as she could feel Silas’s longing for her to remember.

“Why not?” he said, sounding reasonable. “Just put the car in drive, go to the arena, get the Evocane. And . . . leave.” He hesitated. “With me,” he finished softly. Vulnerably.

He made it sound easy. That’s all she wanted. Peace.

Hearing cracks in her resolve within the silence, he edged closer. She dropped her head into her hand, pushing at her temples as her head throbbed. “I can get you through the next twenty-four hours,” he urged. “If you want, I can bring it all back. Or we can just start from where we are now. How about it? We’d be free. We could do what we want. Stay off the grid.”

It hurt so bad, she had to close her eyes.

“It will be better than before,” he coaxed. “Just the two of us. And Carnac. We can pick him up on the way out. Wherever you want to go.”

She jerked, her eyes clamped shut when his hesitant touch landed on her shoulder. Emboldened, his fingers searched, moving until they found the trigger point in her shoulder, and he gently pressed, relaxing her. Her eyes began to jerk, wanting to slip into REM.

“I know you better than anyone, Peri,” he whispered. “We had a good life. We can start over with just the good stuff in it this time, none of the bad. No WEFT. No Opti. Just us. Remember how good it was?”

She didn’t, but her body did, and her throat closed at the chance to find a peace that never existed. Her eyes opened, and with her focus blurry with regret, she whispered, “I’m going crazy.”

“Not with me around,” Jack said, lips inches from her ear and his whispered words sending her thoughts in a new direction as he’d done a hundred times before.

She stiffened.

Jack’s hands sprang away and he flung himself to the back of the car as she turned, her swinging backhand just missing him. “Don’t touch me,” she demanded.

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually from the back, but it didn’t feel like a win.

His eyes flicked past her to the store, and she turned, relieved when Silas’s heavy but trim form jogged across the lot, dodging the incoming Nightwing, the car as sleek and powerful as old Detroit. “It is,” she said, starting the Pinto and putting it into drive.

“He’s not your magic bag of rocks, babe. I am.”

“Leaving you dead in this car is still an option.” Leaning, she unlocked Silas’s door.

Jack sprawled over the seat, putting his face inches from hers. “I know you. You fight it, thinking it makes you a better person. But you are who you are. And the sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be. What the hell is wrong with being happy? You don’t owe anyone anything.”

He retreated as Silas opened the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts as he slid in.

“Sorry it took so long,” Silas said, and she hit the accelerator. Drawn by the noise, the old couple getting out of the Nightwing looked up from their phones. “LB called, and I wanted to take it,” he added as he lurched for the swinging door, finally getting it shut as she hit a bump. “Are we in a hurry?”

“Too many cameras,” she said as she looked both ways and bounced onto the street as if no one else was on it. The tiny engine puttered, hardly moving as it spewed a blue smoke. God, I miss my Mantis.

“You kept your phone, too?” Jack said from the back, the click of his belt obvious. “We are so caught.”

Silas gave him a dry look. “I’m beginning to understand why you’re upset at me for making him the focus of your hallucinations,” he said, then louder, “Allen checked it out before I left. Cleaned it. I’m not stupid.”

“No, but Allen is,” Jack smart-mouthed. “If Michael doesn’t kill you, Peri, Denier will.”

Peri’s grip tightened on the wheel; she wanted to weave through traffic but was hardly able to keep up. Why did I want this POS? Am I punishing myself?

“I’m not going to kill Peri,” Silas said, looking cramped in the front seat of the tiny car.

“You can’t help it,” Jack said. He appeared marginally more comfortable in the backseat. “She’ll trust you, and you won’t be up for the task, and you will get her killed.”

The upcoming light changed to yellow, but the thought of sitting unmoving was unbearable. Jerking the wheel sharply, she wove around the slowing car ahead of her to make the light, glancing back to see whether a traffic drone was chasing her down for a shot of her license plate. It wasn’t, and she exhaled, settling into the tired, worn vinyl. “I’m tired of pulling myself off the grid every time we need to stop for munchies,” she muttered.

Not liking her weave-and-accelerate, Silas put his belt on. “Better that than waking up tomorrow thinking you’re Suzy Homemaker.”

“I’m not going to scrub her,” Jack said, his words going right to her core and twisting.