I inhaled a long, agony-fueled breath and gave the key a hard turn. The engine didn’t purr, it motherfucking roared. “Holy shit!” Clint fell back to his ass, his jaw slack with shock, and I jumped out of the car and ran laps around it, screaming with my hands in the air. “You did it,” I said, stooping in front of him and shaking his shoulders. Behind me the Chevelle began to smoke and groan before seizing and cutting off. “Fuck. You,” I said to the heavens. God had officially made it onto my shit list.
