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“Get up asshole.” Geoff’s voice was low and rough, like he’d been gargling whiskey and breadcrumbs. Feet padded down the hall as he repeated himself to another doorway, Michael dragging himself out of bed, finding his glasses before daring to open his phone.
The bright screen read back 2:57 a.m. Michael groaned, pushing himself off the bed and into the hallway where Gavin was standing against the wall, rubbing his face.
“Why the hell are we up so early?” He asked when half-lidded eyes found Michael. “It’s unholy.”
Michael shrugged, watching everyone else come out of their rooms before Geoff walked up the hallway between them. No one said anything as they followed like lost ducks; Jack was rolling her shoulders while Ryan held onto her arm, eyes not even open. Ray seemed to be the only one awake, but the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t even been to sleep yet.
They clambered into the elevator, leaning against the walls as it descended. Geoff still hadn’t said anything about what they were doing, where they were going, what the hell was wrong. Ray had his phone in his hands after a couple seconds, tapping something quickly on the screen before pocketing it. After a second, Michael’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he glanced at Ray before opening it.
What the fuck is going on???
Michael shrugged instead of texting him back, locking his phone. They piled out of the elevator and into one of Geoff’s bigger cars – something they never used unless they were trying to look inconspicuous, like a group of friends just hanging out instead of hardened criminals scoping their next hit. Jack, of course, slid into the driver’s seat while the rest of them filed into the car. Geoff took shotgun, Ryan and Michael took the pilot chairs in the middle while Ray and Gavin climbed into the back bench seat.
They hit the road while Geoff fiddled with his phone and the Bluetooth sound. Jack didn’t ask where they were going, and everyone relaxed into their seats as she took them out of the city. It was pretty out here, with all the grass and trees – mountains and hills on one side with the ocean in the distance on the other. They’d all been out here at various times with varying degrees of panic. Running from the cops in the winding roads leading into the mountains was terrifying, but it was easier to lose chase that way. If they went flying (and Jack often liked to take them, individually or together) they usually came out this way, watching city give way to hills, to mountains and trees to nothing.
No one said anything while they listened to whatever slow music Geoff kept playing, eventually watching the sun rise over them, still driving in long circles around Blaine County, up the coast then through the mountains, around the city and back. Ray, who usually broke silence first, stayed remarkably quiet behind them, head hovering close to the window. Ryan fiddled with something in his hands while Gavin drummed along to the beat.
Geoff was the first to break silence when he started singing along to one of the songs, Jack coming in behind him, belting out lyrics at the top of their lungs. Soon, radio control was passed to Michael, who pressed himself against Geoff’s chair to make sure he wasn’t picking songs the older man didn’t want to listen to.
All six of them sang lyrics at the top of their lungs while they winded down the mountain, air guitar and fake drums pounding out of them. They hit shaky high notes with absolute failure, laughing through songs when someone managed to land it perfectly. When that grew boring, they started telling stories – Ray talking about the newer game he’d moved on to, Ryan telling stories from Georgia, how sometimes he missed it. Gavin would talk until someone ultimately interrupted him (or sometimes, when he’d interrupt himself, confused). They laughed, stopped for shit coffee and gas station food, sprawled out in the car eating junk and sharing dumb jokes.
Sometime in the afternoon, they swung into a clothing shop, picked up swim trunks and bathing suits and headed out to the beach, changing in the car in haste before running across the hot sand into the water. Geoff vanished to find towels, maybe some sunscreen while the Lads tried to drown each other.
Ryan resorted to throwing clods of wet sand at other people, laughing to himself while they screamed. He hit Michael across the shoulder with one, and the younger man took off after him, running through the water like an idiot while Ryan took off across the wet sand. Jack laughed as Gavin realized what was happened and ran after them to help Michael.
Geoff came back with some towels, a fresh gallon of water and an umbrella, setting up shop while Ray and Jack splashed around in shallow water. The older man sprawled across a towel, dark tattoos against white skin. Jack came out of the water and sat down with him while Ray started looking for shells and other bullshit.
Michael and Gavin came back drenched and looking defeated, Ryan behind them, equally soaked. The other Gent settled onto the edge of the towel, knees pulled to his chest in silence. They watched the Lads turn shell hunting into a competition, kicking sand at each other to keep the others away while they hunted. Eventually they came back to where the Gents were laid up with their keep, spreading out shells and lost jewelry and the occasional sand dollar for the Gents to judge.
Gavin was decided the winner, since he had two full sand dollars and Michael only had half of one; most of what Ray seemed to have brought in was pretty, but fairly small. Ray pouted while Gavin gloated, dancing along the sand before Michael tackled him, throwing sand in his hair.
Jack glanced back at Geoff, who just smiled gently at her. Road trips were always a good plan.