Both Jerry and Karen were out for the day. Jerry at work and Karen off shopping or something. Quinn had his headphones in when she’d left. Quail had gone off somewhere too, which meant that he’d gotten the entire house to himself. It was great. While he did love his family, they could pry a lot, and with how things were going with Dustin recently… well, they’d been particularly curious about everything. Quinn was still far too unsure what was even going on, so being able to get away from prying questions for an afternoon was nice.
He had actually made his way out into the living room for once. His headphones were in and he was laying on the couch, listening to the music playing probably a little too loudly in his ears, and sipping on a freshly brewed mug of tea. It was nice. Quinn was even tempted to pick up the book he’d been reading on and off for the past month. They weren’t generally his main interest, but this one was slightly interesting at least. Quinn was just about to stand up and do that when he heard the car in the driveway start. He was going to ignore it, because it was probably just Karen getting back. But then he realized he had seen the car in the driveway before, and it should be stopping, not starting. Shifting on the couch, he looked out of the window and blinked, eyes going slightly wide as he saw someone in their car he didn’t recognize. “Shit,” he said. Apparently the girl saw her and sped out. “Fuck,” he leapt from the couch and immediately started to call Karen. “Fuck,” he mumbled once more, dashing to grab his shoes and slipping them on and running outside. The car was already a bit down the road at this point.
Looking around, he was at a loss, not sure what he should do. His mind was racing. Then it struck him. “Bike!” he called out, hurrying to the garage and pulling out the bicycle he hadn’t used in years. Jumping on he started peddling, praying Karen would just answer her phone. He groaned loudly when her voicemail came on. “Godamnit,” he gasped, peddling after the car. He was really out of shape. And the tires were definitely flat. “Karen, someone’s stealing the car. I’m chasing after it. Gonna find it,” he panted out softly. He wasn’t exactly sure what he could do in a situation like this though. Ending the call, he tried to dial Jared’s work number instead. Maybe he’d at least pick up. But it wasn’t going to happen. Jared didn’t pick up. Why was it they were never at their phone when he needed them? “C’mon,” he mumbled, ending the call. He’d called Karen, no point in leaving a message for Jared when he was too focused on catching up with the car.
For a moment, Taylor thought she was in the clear. She hadn’t exactly gotten away clean, but she could get to the dealership before anything bad happened at the very least. She kept stealing glances at the rearview mirror to make sure nobody was following her, and for a while it was okay, but then she saw that same boy behind her suddenly, wrestling to get a flat-tired bike down the street after her. What was he doing? Was this the kid’s car? Or was he just devoted to getting the car back? And now that she thought about it, she realized why. Of course the kid thought she was stealing it. She essentially was, just with legal reason behind it.
She rolled the window down and slowed down just a tad, yelling out at the boy. “Go home kid!” she cried, waving her arm out the window. “Leave!” But that seemed to only make the kid peddle faster and harder trying to catch up to her. Dammit. This kid was gonna wipe out on that jank bike and get his head split open on the asphalt if he wasn’t careful. There really wasn’t much she could do about it at this point though, especially since she was already so close to the dealership. Only a couple more blocks. She slowed down more so the kid didn’t do something stupid trying to chase her and after a bit she was pulling into the dealership, still going way over the speed limit though.
Once she was in the parking lot, she haphazardly parked and jumped out of the car as the boy pulled up on his bike, looking like he’d just run about five marathons in a row while smoking heavily. “The hell where you thinking, kid? Ain’t stealing this car. I’m a repo man. This car’s being repo’d for late payments. Ain’t something to get yourself fucking killed over.” She gestured toward his flat tires, then poked her thumb back toward the car behind her. “This yours?”
