Grant shrieked a little as Bridgette yanked the wheel again from side to side, reveling in the high speeds and the terror she was inflicting on her closest passenger. She and Jackson had been acting up ever since I’d returned to New Orleans with a very grateful Grant in tow. All through the road trip to Florida, the couple had been using any excuse to scare him. I contributed their mischievousness to the fact that Lea had begun to turn over a new leaf, which therefore had diminished the amount of violent fun they were allowed in their normal day. Poor Grant was getting the brunt of their frustrations. Apparently, their new goal was to frighten him to death. I had agreed to let Bridgette drive my car in an effort to help bridge the gap between my crew and Lea’s, but the offer had obviously been a bad idea. We were now in Ocala, Florida and almost to the bar where we were supposed to be rendezvousing with the others. I stared deadpan at Lea, who sat across from me in the back seat, in the hopes she would get a hold on the situation.
