Drive

[Vincent Kane]

Lips pressed together in silence for a moment as he considered his words. It was a rather rash and .. seemingly pointless move, tossing Donovan's keys into the donation box, the sun's rays gleaming and reflecting brightly off its metallic surface. Blunt nails rubbed against his sternum beneath the crisp white dress shirt, a thoughtful and unconscious habit that needed to be broken along with the usual tensing of a strongly defined jaw. Eyes danced along Brennan's own furious ones, a silent match raging between them in their momentary silence. “What they threaten you? Take your guns and all da other shit ya sale to da authorities?” A bitter laugh escaped his dry lips, "I'd like to think it was something that simple." His words, however, seemed lost as Brennan continued, the words slipping from his lips in the obvious anger. “They threaten to kill someone if you don’ play ‘long… ‘cause dat’s what dey did to me.” Cerulean orbs unconsciously drifted away from Donovan without meaning to, flickering back with a soft shake of his head. That made two of them in this game for the same reason .. almost.

Fingertips smoothly raked through feathered chestnut strands, his arm still pressing against his side, fingers still curled tightly around the warm weapon. “You ‘member Johanna? Yeah, well seems dat night turned out ‘little more den we thought. Yesterday, I found out I ‘ave a son. Didn’ even know ‘bout him until some suit showed me his picture..” Brows furrowed in slight shock, wondering just how that little thing had happened. Donovan had a son? "Christ", he breathed, realizing that this little game was getting larger than he had originally thought. They were all threatened to participate in this little hellish nightmare, practically held against their wills by things important to them. However, Vincent's own was beginning to seem not as important as Donovan's ''prize'' at the end of the game. A son. What made this moment even stranger was the mere fact that Donovan never told much of himself or of anything for that matter. He felt his chest constrict tightly, throat following suit at the thought of his own son, realizing it was almost eight years tomorrow .. Johnny. Not even Brennan Donovan knew of the family he once had. He wasn't even sure Brennan had one of his own.

“I shouldn’ even give a fuck ‘bout ‘im. Johanna didn’ t’ink it was worth mentionin’… but when I saw da photo…the least I can do is save da kid from a man dat doesn’ even exist to 'im.” His jaw worked, mind racing. Suppose this was the truth, the pain of the situation clear in Donovan's eyes .. yet his mind couldn't help look to both sides of the situation, no matter if how much he trusted a person. He hadn't seen the arms dealer in years, who knew how much had changed. However, even if it was all set up, why him? Why target him, using Donovan? His tongue slid along his dry lip, with a faint nod to himself. There was only one way to find out .. and no matter what, there was sure to be some form of trouble and chaos at the end of the road, no matter what path he chose. “So if you’re gon’ do dis paranoia t’ing, get it over wit. ‘Cause I ain’t driven, God knows how many miles, wit you if you’re gon’ ‘ave a gun to me back da entire time.” The faint smirk tugged at his lips as his arm slowly lowered, the gun still remaining in loose fingers. "You don't expect to drive all these miles on a bike now, do you? Think of it as a good thing I threw your keys in. Besides, they don't empty those for a while, I'm sure this will be over before they even touch it." Despite the situation, it would be quite interesting to have a partner again, faintly remembering the late nights in Irish Pubs. ..Oh hell yeah, this would be one hell of a ride.

[Brennan Donovan]

Right corner of his lips slowly parted somewhat in discomfort. Donovan would have liked to think he knew Vincent, well at least as good enough as Vincent ever would let someone know him; however, that subtle uncertainty left the ex-arms dealer at a complete loss when it came to knowing the man’s every thought process. Not to mention, he couldn’t really read Kane’s face unless the man donning the well pressed suit allowed him to. Consequently, in this precise moment - in which the barrel of the gun did not sway even the slightest from its current position - caused the distinct sensation of worry mixed with good ol’doubt. Not only was there a liable chance he’d receive a bullet, due to a somewhat reasonable paranoia, he had allowed his inner voice to succumb to the lure of un-needed explanation. Fucking perfect.

In all honesty, granted this was none of Kane’s business, on a usual bases the mere shimmer of a custom gun would not strike a sense of fear into Brennan but only result in revealing a weapon of his own or simply telling the man to fuck off before managing to disarm the man of his firearm. It surely wouldn’t have changed Brennan’s mindset in the least but he knew he wasn’t telling Vin to save his own neck - it was that little boy he’d never met and even in the outcome did he win this race he never would. Not under the false pretense of ‘his father’. It took years for someone to be labeled as fit and Donovan knew that no cross-country race granted him that title.

Concrete fused stare found that all too familiar crystal blue glance of his once-time partner. Whose lips slowly quirked back into a smirk while his hand lowered the weapon but kept it at arms length, literally. “You don’t expect to drive all these miles on a bike now, do you? Think of it as a good thing I threw your keys in. Besides, they don’t empty those for a while, I’m sure this will be over before they even touch it.” Brennan’s unshaved jaw line relaxed somewhat as denim clad lower limbs made their way past his longtime friend, catching the man’s smirk work back into a wider smile at Donovan’s words. “You better hope you’re right - cause if you’re not. You’re going to wish you’d shot me.”

[Jason Williams]

“Careful, or I'm going to make ride in the trunk.” Jason just smirked at her. "Please you would miss looking at this." He cracked his knuckles and starred at her. She was the only thing in this world that kept him in one piece. His whole family was kind of messed up from his mom to his older brother. His older brother Dillon was a real piece of work. They shared a bond when they were younger. Things changed though and Dillon turned into an ass.

Jason shook it off when the cell phone started to ring. He picked up and looked it over a new text message. "Fly to Jupiter and find the red eye." Jason looked up at her and they stood. Reaching into his wallet he threw a couple bills on to the table and they headed out.

They walked toward the car.” So all this excitement what are the odds of me getting lucky tonight?" "If we get where we're going and we're not last, I'd have to say the odds would be in your favor. " Jason just grinned at her. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Something about those small kisses made him all warm and tingly. Okay Mister where to now? Shrugging "I don't know I am just the looks of this operation."

"And don't you forget it." she snatched the car keys from him. Now lets go win this bitch. Jason jumped into the car. "You never let me drive. Makes me feel like less of a man." He made a pouty face but he knew it wouldn’t work. He watched her smirk as she just took off. He had no idea what was going to happen.

[Seth Solis]

Frame shifted behind the wheel of the piece-of-shit Ford. It was one of those hot as fuck afternoons and it appeared as though Seth had wired a car with no AC and the air coming in through the rolled down windows just did not suffice. The silence inside the vehicle was not natural, between busted radio and shitty pre-determined companion It was just not his day. Both men were on edge, one word and it was likely the other would snap. The last time they had been within twenty feet of each other there had been an all out fist fight that ended with guards separating the cell-mates. Now with the whole multi-million race thing...

After getting out of New York City in one piece and a forty-seven minute argument over the meaning of the ‘I wish you were here’ postcard, the pair had opted to temporarily take a less populated route to Illinois. Speed vs Traffic. Dark eyes spotted truck stop up ahead and began to drive into the parking lot. He could feel Dillon giving him the death glare, but didn’t look the blonde male. Opening his door he put a foot out onto the gravel and said “I have to take a piss” before stepping out and allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

***

Exiting the Roadhouse Seth returned to the parking lot to find his race partner moving his shit from the backseat of the Ford into the trunk of a ‘69 GTO. Smirk crossed his features. “So momma’s boy knows how to wire.” “Keys were on the tire.” Short statured man moved over to their former mode of transportation. “I’m sure they were.” Leaning in he grabbed a hold of the duffle he’d packed in the fifteen minutes allotted. Pulling it out of the car hardcovered book hit the ground. Bending down he picked up the bible with the hollowed out centre. Thumb ran across the symbol on the cover and sneered. He’d given up on all that god-crap years ago.

Moving over to the trunk he dropped the stuff in as Dillion climbed behind the wheel and slammed his door. Solis slammed the trunk with equal amount of force and headed around to the passenger side and climbed in. As soon as he did so vehicle squealed out of the parking lot. Glancing into the mirror he caught glimpse of a very angry metal-head exiting the establishment and attempting to chase them while screaming obscenities. Seth laughed honestly. “Oops.”

[Vincent Kane]

"Starting to wish I shot myself..", came the inaudible murmur to himself as he turned away from Donovan without a second thought, pivoting on the heel of the faded leather boots. The glinting metal in his warm palm was returned to its rightful place, descending the few steps that had led up to the main entrance of the Church. He didn't give a thought about having his back exposed to Brennan for many reasons, the first of which being, he still trusted the man entirely - or at least, the amount of trust that Vincent would actually bestow upon a person. For another, they were in broad daylight and neither of them had anything to gain out of killing the other. Which brought back the reasoning to his mumbled words and the impact of the situation before him, one he desperately tried to avoid, one he knew would catch up to him.

His defined jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding as fingertips slipping into the folds of fabric and fished around for the car keys, his grasp around them growing tighter as they pressed into his warm palm. Vincent was done running, done with this life and everything about it. If he couldn't save his own ass in this, the least he could do was help Donovan get his son back. He owed the man that much at least. "Illinois", he nodded, cerulean orbs flickering back to Donovan as fingers tugged at the tie, the heat almost unbearable. He stood beside 442, torso resting against it and waiting for his partner, that alone would take some getting used to once again, to join him, fingers strumming absently atop the reflective glossy paint.

He wondered what would await them there in Illinois .. more clues leading to more places in an endless quest to regain or protect what they guarded most? So Illinois .. home of .. popcorn, cardinals and square dancing and the 'Land of Lincoln' would be their next destination? Fingers ran through feathered strands before his arm extended toward the door handle of the driver's side. "Got a feeling this is gonna be a long day.."

[Sorry I took forever!]