Edward
"James, you can drive, can't you?" Michael shouted, snatching the keys out of my hand.
James stopped a few feet from the car.
"You want me to drive?"
Michael rolled his eyes. "Yeah, for fuck's sake, get in. I need to make a call. I can't drive, and this idiot definitely shouldn't. Just look at him."
He tossed the car keys straight at James, then pulled open the rear passenger door, gesturing for me to get in.
"But… what happened?" James asked, shifting his gaze from Michael to me.
"Guess we're about to find out." Michael gave me a serious look. "The bar, right?"
I nodded.
James didn't hesitate any longer. He ran to the driver's door, yanked it open, climbed inside, and started adjusting everything.
He was so tiny that, for a moment, I wasn't sure his legs would even reach the pedals.
Despite his size, he sorted everything out remarkably quickly, started the engine, and shot off so abruptly the tyres screeched against the tarmac.
"So, can you explain what's going on?" Michael asked me.
My head was a complete mess.
Part of me was trying to understand what had happened, whether anything had happened at all. I searched for some explanation, any explanation that didn't involve something terrible.
Because of that, I didn't even notice Michael speaking to me at first.
"Edward?" He grabbed my arm and gave it a slight shake. "What happened?" he repeated.
I took a deep breath.
"Luka," I replied, "Kazuo said he's missing."
"Missing?" Michael frowned. "Missing where?"
"Fuck, Michael, do you think I know?" I snapped.
"Easy, Tiger. What happened?"
"I don't know. Kazuo said he'd been looking for him, but he couldn't find him anywhere. He said Luka's gone."
Anger started boiling inside me again.
"Where the fuck is your spy?" I asked sharply. "Wasn't he supposed to warn us if my father decided to do anything?"
Michael fell silent for a moment, then pulled out his phone and started calling someone.
The car was so quiet that I could hear every ring coming from the phone pressed against Michael's ear.
One after another.
Each one seemed to drag on forever.
Eventually, someone picked up.
I couldn't make out what was being said on the other end, but I heard Michael well enough.
"Hi. We've got a bit of a situation here. Our symbol of protest has gone missing, and you promised you'd warn us if the old man decided to do anything. So I'm curious why it's been completely quiet on your end while everything's gone to absolute shit over here."
Whoever was speaking replied for a while.
As they did, Michael's expression changed, becoming serious.
"Right... Can you find out whether he's got anything to do with this or not?" Michael asked. "Yeah. Uh huh."
A few more questions followed.
"Fine. I'll wait for your call."
He hung up and turned to me.
"According to him, your father's been keeping his head down. He doesn't know anything either. But he said he'll look into it, then call back."
I said nothing, pressed my fingers against my temples, and started rubbing them.
The headache had returned with a vengeance.
Every pulse of pain made it harder to think.
Then the car lurched so violently around a corner that I lost my balance, nearly collapsing onto Michael.
James, unexpectedly, turned out to be a complete maniac behind the wheel. Speed limits and traffic lights seemed optional. He overtook cars, cut between lanes, and at one point drove into oncoming traffic without the slightest hesitation.
Not a single part of it should have been reassuring, but I still couldn't bring myself to tell him to slow down.
The journey that should have taken far longer was shrinking before my eyes.
James suddenly turned into a narrow street that looked more like an alleyway than an actual road.
"There's probably a dead end up there!" Michael shouted. "Stay on the main road!"
James didn't answer.
His face remained focused. His hands moved across the wheel with sharp movements as he turned left, then right, then left again, changing direction so confidently that it seemed as if he knew every shortcut to the bar.
A few minutes later, we were already entering the old district.
Their district.
And before I could properly register where we were, James slammed on the brakes.
I nearly drove forehead-first into the passenger seat.
We had arrived.