104
I wasn’t driving but being driven. Adam sat in the back strapped into a car seat. My driver was meathead, Mike. I had been told he was called Mike now. There was no pretense that this was his real name. He didn’t always respond to it when I called him it. We were on the motorway doing a perfect seventy miles per hour. There was also a car following us. That car also contained one of Nancy’s other sons. It wasn’t explained to me why we were being followed and I was nervous about it.
Mike leaned over and turned on the radio.
“I like some music while I drive.”
A tape started playing heavy metal. Not something I would have chosen but I wasn’t going to complain. Adam started jumping about in his seat.
“You like this little man?” said Mike in his usual gravely deep voice.
“Yes. Louder.”
Mike laughed and turned it up. He looked over to me with a grin. I don’t know if
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