Angie gripped the armrest as Bradley sped after Bruno's car. Every time she felt certain the car would careen over the edge of the road and likely into an abyss, Bradley would expertly manuever the steering wheel. Still Angie felt her body tense and lean, as if she was assisting in driving.
She could almost hear Shayla, "Sister, you got to learn to let go."
Angie knew it was true, but if a moment ever existed in which she was unwilling to listen to that advice, this was it. The car wouldn't crash. She would will it onto the road and to her sister.
They were just approaching the peak when the vehicle started to slide again. After twenty minutes of close calls, Angie had finally grown accustomed to the sensation of floating above the ground and then the adept Bradley grounding them again toward Shayla. She should have known not to trust a man with a woman's mission.
"Oh, shit," Bradley said.
Angie leaned forward in her seat and braced herself against the dashboard with her hand as the vehicle surged sideways.