The suitcase was heavy, and I let Rev carry it. I watched it bounce against his shin as we made our way back through the woods. We both strained our ears, listening for anything that might spell trouble. I hated the feel of dirt on my hands and under my nails. I’d always hated that feeling. Being dirty. The suitcase was packed in the stuff. But what was inside was far more important.

I collected my old cigar box from behind the tree. Passing Mickey’s body, I bit my lip. I should never have let him get a single sentence out. He’d been chasing Rev, shooting at him. I should have put him down the first chance I got and that little decision had almost gotten us both killed. It was too late now. Watching Rev in front of me, focusing on the back of his head, I tried not to linger on how close I’d been to losing him. It made my heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vise. Almost lost him, because for one moment I thought…

“We should probably be running,” Rev observed when we reached the edge of the woods. How long, I wondered, would Mickey’s body lay there? Someone would come looking for him, right? Jackie, his boss - or blackmailer?

Did it matter?

No, it didn’t. It was just blood on my hands, that was all. Just a man I killed.

Rev, impatient, reached for my hand and started jogging, pulling me behind him, just as I had pulled him towards the money. The money. God damn it was a lot of money. We didn’t have time to count it, but the suitcase was lined end to end with neat stacks of hundreds.

Who knew Dad had so much stocked away? Why hadn’t he used it to run when he had the chance? Maybe he planned to - but he just had to chase one more score…

Or maybe this money had always been mine. Maybe he never touched it, because he always meant for me to have it. Maybe he let himself go to jail because this money was the only good thing he could give me.

The bitch of it was, I’d never know.

I was a bit out of breath when we reached the car.

When we saw the BMW coming over the hill in the rear view, the rest of my breath left me.

“Shit,” Rev hissed, and peeled us onto the road. Somewhere deep inside me, I hoped that it was nothing. Just a couple out for a drive on the country roads. Okay, so there were two Beamers. Maybe it was two couples. Okay, so they were speeding up, zooming past the house, getting bigger in the mirrors, even as Rev pushed the Bel Air up to fifty. Maybe it was two couples with two pregnant women, both about to give birth. There’s no way, in all Mickey’s lies, he had told just one truth. Jackie didn’t know where we were.

When the first bullet hit, I couldn’t pretend anymore.

The bulletproof glass of the back window didn’t shatter, but it cracked. Dad would have been furious. He’d spent a small fortune having custom made glass installed on the old car. Staring at the webbed circle directly behind my head, I had a sudden appreciation for his paranoia.

Thanks, dad…

Rev’s muscles bunched, his eyes going steely, getting that look I’d only seen once before. In the backseat, Purrloin was wailing a protest at our speed, and the turn we took too fast. Poor thing had been stuck in that carrier for far too long, I really needed to…

Crack.

I needed to not worry about that right now.

“Rev…” I breathed, hearing myself hyperventilating. “Rev, it’s Jackie, it’s gotta be…ohmygod, we’re screwed, we’re…”

“Misty, I told you,” he gritted out. “I’m going to get us out of this. Trust me.”

He gave me a one second glance, and I melted back into the seat while he pushed us past sixty. Up ahead, I could see the insane curve that would take us westward. The curve skirted a field and a huge barn that had been abandoned for longer than I could remember. Bracing myself for the turn, I screeched when it never came. Rev took the car right into the field, slamming over the bumpy terrain, right towards the barn. I wanted to scream, wanted to grab the wheel away, wanted to beat some sense into him.

Instead, I trusted him. Even as another bullet dinged my father’s car, I just watched the barn loom closer and closer, ringed with trees. The rear view showed one of the Beamers gaining on us, going faster than us. Everything screeched. We finally turned. Right before hurtling ourselves into the darkness of the barn, Rev spun us back towards the road, the Bel Air airborne for one awful moment as it bounced over a hillock.

Crashing crescendoed behind us, and I forced myself to peek at the mirror, at the dilapidated barn finally giving up the ghost, caving in on itself, and on the car that now poked, bumper first, , out of the hay-strewn and dusty rubble, wheels spinning but going nowhere. The planks and beams shifted once as the car tried to rush free, but by then I was too busy looking into the window of the other Beamer as we passed it.

An angry face snarled back at me, and then I was looking at the barrel of a gun. Shrieking, pulling at Rev, I ducked - but the bulletproof glass kept me safe once more. Judging by the spiderwebs crawling over it, it might not repeat the performance. I spun around as we hit pavement, the second Beamer still on our tail.

“Misty,” Rev said. “How good a shot are you?”

“Why don’t you ask Mickey,” I said, managing to sound brave when I was seconds away from pissing my panties. No sooner did I answer than the back window finally shattered.

“If you think you could take out a tire, it’d be a big help,” he said, forcing the car up to seventy. I could see a rogue bundle of weeds sticking up from the front fender like Alfalfa’s haircut. I grabbed the gun and spun around, aiming out the broken window. This time, it was Rev trusting me. Time to return some favors.

There are only a few things on this earth that feel as good as firing a gun and hitting your target on the first shot. Sex, certainly. For me, nachos. Probably finishing a marathon, if you’re a bit more health conscious. I felt the bullet blast forward, and blinked - when I opened my eyes again, I was treated to the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

The second car spun out, squealing its way into a ditch. My hands were shaking now, but it was alright. Now, they could shake. For now. We weren’t safe yet. Wouldn’t be for a long time. I didn’t even know how long. But for now, the road behind us was clear. And the road ahead was smooth.

Purrloin felt very differently. As cold wind whipped against us from the open back, she was pitching a kitty fit. I slumped down, feeling the car slow, dropping the gun and looking at Rev. His knuckles slowly regained some color, having been squeezed white by his grip. We cruised down to fifty. It was another ten miles to the highway, twenty to the Interstate. If we managed to avoid any cops, and if we managed to avoid Jackie’s further detection, and if all the heavens decided to smile upon us, we might make it out of this alive.

There was nothing to do but head for the border and pray for the very fucking best.

“Baby…” I said, looking at Rev, taking in his profile, wanting so badly to know that we would be alright.

“We’re good,” he said, turning to me. Somehow, he managed to smile. “We’re good, Misty. You hear that, Purrloin? We’re good.”

He had one hand on the clutch, and I covered it with my own. We’re good, I told myself. The money was safe under my feet, and we were all alive, all three of us, alive. We’re good.