Kent can tell when things get a little dicey on the thirty-minute drive to the coast because Jerome’s whole body goes tense.
“s**t, s**t,” Jerome murmurs once, his eyes darting to the side towards what Kent assumes is a police vehicle.
“Do we have any weapons?” Kent asks, keeping his voice low.
“Glove box,” Jerome replies, working hard not to move his lips. “But…not yet, all right? I don’t know what they’re…”
Kent watches Jerome’s head move as whatever vehicle it was moves past their sedan, which is studiously driving the speed limit. Jerome lets out a deep breath.
“Okay,” Jerome says, nodding. “I think it’s just…a normal highway patrol.”
Kent nods, tense but…well, he’s done this sort of thing before. He knows that there’s no benefit to panicking before there’s a reason to panic.
