How Did You Get in Here?

My contribution to this week’s Inspiration Monday.

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I round the fender of the car and power on my scanner. Just a chick fumbling with her keys. Nothing to see here. The car chirps twice, disarmed. I get in and push the ignition button. The dash lights up all around me like a miniature city at night. The engine growls–a surprised grizzly woken early from deep slumber. Easy, boy. And all this in less than ten seconds from the bushes to the driver’s seat. I owe Shayd for his new program. How I’ll pay him? TBD.

Shove into first, and the car squeals out of there. Let them hear. At zero to sixty in three point five seconds, it’s far too late for them anyway. I check the rear view mirror, and that’s when I see it hunkering in the shadows surrounded by tinted glass. A bent form. A shoulder. Human hair. Buzzed short, like a man’s. I have no weapon, not even some lousy pepper spray. Be cool. If he was supposed to be here, he wouldn’t be hiding. If he was going to attack me, he already would’ve.

“How did you get in here?”

Clothes rustle against the seat. His eyes appear in the mirror. “Same way you did.”

“Yet I’m the one driving it away.”

“I thought you were the owner.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

He reaches to the front seat and picks up my scanner. “This doesn’t look like the factory key.”

I snatch it from him. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

He laughs. “Not so fast. I was here first.” Arms, head, and torso shove between the headrests and into the front passenger seat, then legs, too long for such a maneuver but he does it anyway, all without kicking me in the face. “Seems there’s one thing we both want.”

“No, there’s something I have, and something you want.”

He doesn’t answer right away. He’s waiting for me to look at him. I shouldn’t, but I do.

He raises both eyebrows. Smiles. “Are we still talking about the car?”