They stood in silence for a moment. The only sound was the ticking of hot engines and the distant buzz of cicadas.
The old man laughed—a real, dusty laugh. “Rentals? Son, I’ve had that Aventador for eleven years. Bought it the day my wife left me. Best decision I ever made.”
Leo pulled in fifty yards behind them. The engines idled with a guttural, wet purr that vibrated in his chest. 2 lamborghini
“Lead the way,” he said.
The old man nodded slowly. “Best reason to drive.” They stood in silence for a moment
Leo looked at his car. The cracked windshield. The dented door. The coffee-stained cup in the holder. “Running away,” he admitted.
He pulled back onto the road and, against all reason, floored the sedan. It groaned and shuddered, but he kept the two Lamborghinis in sight, tiny specks that grew smaller by the second. Then, ahead, he saw them slow down. They pulled over at a derelict gas station—a relic with cracked pumps and a single working soda machine. “Rentals
The woman pulled two sodas from the machine and tossed one to Leo. “We’re heading to the Valley of Fire. Sunset hits the red rocks like stained glass. You’ve got four wheels and a full tank.”