Page 75 of Goose

My asshole puckered. “What?”

“You sure?” Cash asked.

“It’s a fucking cop,” Reno shouted.

“Fuck!” Cash said. “His lights aren’t flashing, Bake. What do I do?”

“Play it cool,” Baker said. “Like you’re headed out for an early morning cup of coffee.”

“If you’d have been fucking watching,” I said through my teeth. “You’d have seen his ass park there. He’s been waiting on us.”

“Who the fuck you talking to?” Cash asked.

“The only dumb fuck that was on patrol, Dumb Fuck.”

He glared. “Fuck you.”

“Shut the fuck up, you two,” Baker insisted.

I clenched my jaw and glared.

With is hands locked at ten and two on the steering wheel, Cash crept ahead at a snail’s pace. A quarter of a mile later, blue and red lights began to flicker behind us.

My heart shot into my throat.

I swallowed heavily. “Baker?” I asked, my voice tense. “What do you want us to do?”

“Nail this motherfucker,” he said.

Cash hit the gas. The SUV took off like a rocket. With the cop right on our tail, we shot through the neighborhood’s winding roads as break-neck speeds.

“I don’t know where all those go-fast buttons are,” Cash blurted. “You?”

With one hand gripping the “oh shit” handle and the other plastered to the dash, I glanced at the array of illuminated buttons. Covered with German’s universal automotive industry symbols, it seemed they were everywhere. I had no idea what they meant. They just as well been printed in Greek.

“I have no idea,” I replied. “Just keep this motherfucker to the floorboard.”

The exhaust from the 800 horsepower SUV bellowed as we blasted through the neighborhood with the cop right behind us. The winding narrow roads, abrupt turns, and poor street lighting prevented us from going anywhere close to as fast as the vehicle was capable of. Nonetheless, Cash managed to stay just a few feet ahead of the tailing officer.

“Get this motherfucker on the highway, so you can outrun that asshole,” I shouted.

A sharp left turn came up out of nowhere.

“Cash! Left!” I screamed. “Left! Left! God damn it, Cash!”

He screamed and yanked the steering wheel to the left. We nearly slammed into a forty-foot date palm before the vehicle reacted. Missing it by the thickness of a hair, we veered off the road and into someone’s yard.

The SUV fishtailed. The engine revved. My heart faltered. The vehicle slid out of control. Everything started spinning. What was left of my life flashed in front of my eyes. With screeching tires, the vehicle was thrust back onto the roadway. When the rear tires contacted the pavement, we damned near flipped over.

The headlights behind us went dark. The sound of steel crunching made me cringe.

“Jesus, fuck!” Reno shouted. “Cop hit that tree.”

“Thank fucking God,” Cash exclaimed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “What now Bake?”

“Get the fuck out of here. Take backroads home. Not the highway. As soon as you get where we can do it without raising eyebrows, switch the plates on this fucker.”

“Back to the legal plates?” I asked.