I found it rather miraculous considering the roads were bumpy as fuck. I felt like I needed a four-wheeler to traverse the streets of Mexico. Not to mention the Camry seemed one pothole away from falling to pieces. Please, Gramps, let us make it home. As we drove, I contemplated what was happening back home. I hadn't heard from Son, which made me nervous. It had only been a week since they left, but lots of shit could go down in a week. I didn't know if Dig had made moves, or was holding back for some reason. Part of me hoped they were waiting on something so I could have a shot at Burns' head. Another part of me just wanted this shit over. I was ready to merely be a motorcycle aficionado, a mechanic, and Elle's man. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just us. A simple life. No drama. No kidnappings. No drive-bys. No hiding out. No killing. I woke Elle shortly before reaching the border.
