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I heard a thump behind me. The trunk opened. Something heavy thudded inside. The trunk shut. Carter and Garrett got back in the car, still laughing at me.
    â€œYou scare too easily,” said Carter.
    I refused to let my relief escape in a sob or declaration that I loved him. “Yeah, well … not all of us make a habit of skulking around in shady places,” I finished lamely.
    â€œSkulking?” Garrett grinned. “Nice vocabulary. What’re you, fifty?”
    â€œNope, she’s Nolan Jr. None of that hooligan teen-speak for our Penelope.”
    â€œMaybe I’d speak more like a teen if I ever got to spend timewith any.” I’d tried for defiant, but it came out as wistful. I ground my teeth. “Stop distracting me. Were those gunshots? And were they yours? Did you just put a
body
in the trunk?”
    â€œA body?” scoffed Carter. “This isn’t
The Godfather
, Pen. We’re not a mafia out whacking people … although I’d kinda love to hear you say ‘fuhgeddaboutit’ in your prissy little voice.” His eyes were too bright, his forehead beaded with sweat, his smile stretched wide and smug.
    â€œI didn’t shoot anyone.” Garrett hit my brother on the arm. “Sorry we scared you.”
    â€œWhat you guys are doing—this thing you can’t tell Father—it’s really dangerous, isn’t it?”
    Carter gave me a quick grin as he glanced over his shoulder and reversed out of the parking lot. The tires squealed as he threw the car in drive and sped down the street. “If I say it is, will that scare you off?”
    â€œNo,” I said through gritted teeth.
    â€œI wish it would.” Garrett turned around in his seat. “I’m not going to let anything happen to him or you.” Which was the exactly wrong thing for him to say when he was still holding a gun in his lap.
    â€œAnd who’s going to protect you?” I locked eyes with Garrett, each of us daring the other to look away first. I wasn’t going to back down, not even if my gaze laid bare how much I cared about his well-being.
    â€œHungry?” Carter asked, and we both jumped. “I’m ready to get my B-B-Q on.”
    â€œStop. No. Just stop. We’re not going to dinner right now,” Isaid. “We’re not going to a restaurant where you’ll use ‘public place’ as an excuse to ignore my questions. I’m not leaving this car until I get some answers.”
    â€œBut I’m starving,” Carter whined.
    â€œFine. We can eat. Drive-through. No one is getting out of this car.”
    â€œI have to pee.” Carter was way too self-amused, and Garrett snickered.
    If I could have kicked the back of their seats without Garrett insisting we pull over so he could check for bruises, I would’ve. I settled for narrowing my eyes. “You’re not funny,” I told Carter.
    â€œI’m hilarious. Your sense of humor is broken.”
    We both looked to Garrett. “Oh, no. I want no part of this.
Stay out of Landlow infighting
is the first rule of being a Ward.”
    Was the second about carrying a gun? Seeing him holding it so casually made my stomach clench and my appetite disappear. I shivered in the A/C.
    â€œWhat did you shoot?” I asked. “And can you put that away, please?”
    â€œCar tires,” he answered.
    â€œBet they won’t be late again,” Carter said. His eyes were on the road as he merged onto the highway. He didn’t see the way I watched Garrett’s hands on the gun or the way Garrett was watching me in the rearview mirror, his mouth forming an apology. He leaned forward and tucked it back in its holster.
    â€œSo you don’t want to go to the city, Pen? You’d rather do drive-through and head home?” Carter put on his blinker and moved into the right lane.
    Not fair. He
knew
about my NYC obsession. He
knew
I rarely saw it on