I had given up trying to fight Cage anymore. We walked back up to the surface and got into a black minivan to join Cage into another one of his great adventures. Whoever he was talking to on the phone was who we were meeting. No one would tell me anything else.

The driver was an old, grumpy-looking man and nothing seemed to faze him. He drove without speaking or looking up from the road once. The black duffel bags were in the passenger seat. Heath was sitting next to Micheal in the middle seat and I was uncomfortably squished between Nick and Cage in the back.

Cage's mood took a visible turn for the worse after discovering what Jonah had done. I overheard them talking about hunting down this Jonah dude and making him pay for what he'd done. In other words, the same four people that I sat in this very car with were going to kill a man. It was a startling look into what the Crows stood for, what they did. The realization that I was hanging out with world class criminals that were wanted for numerous crimes that even television considered too harsh to portray hadn't quite settled in with me yet.

It was one whole day that I had been away from Fern. With her daughter, I hoped she wasn't going to worry about me. Fern didn't need to add me to the list of things that made her life harder than it should. Cage wouldn't let me talk to Fern or make any phone calls. After an hour of trying, I gave up.

For some reason, next to the first aid kit in the trunk, there was also a sewing kit so I began to teach Nick how to sew. It went a little something like this:

"November, why are you making me do this? This is considered a form of torture in some countries, you know. I'm pretty sure it's illegal. Ow, I fucking stabbed my finger. I am bleeding. November, I am bleeding. Can we stop? This is stupid. There is literally no situation where I will need to sew. Dammit, I am a criminal, I don't need to- stop hitting me!"

"Nobody's going to help you when your pants rip and you have your tightey-whiteys displayed for the whole world to see. Make a knot. No, a knot. Tie the string. No, tighter than that. It has to be bigger than the needle, Nick! A knot. Stop tangling it up! That's not helping. All you literally need to do is make a knot. A knot, Nick!"

"This is bullying and I will not stand for it-"

Cage's fists were clenched. As Nick tried to fix the tangled mess of string in his hands, I glanced at him. He was staring hard at the ground, a look of hard concentration on his face. Cage had mastered the art of feigning emotions. He played with feelings and emotions because he had none. His jaw tightened when he saw me watching him. Blushing, I bought my attention back to Nick.

"You know what?" I took the embroidery loop from Nick. He had been trying to sew a flower into the fabric but manged to create something that distinctly looked like a penis. "Let's just stop. You will never be able to do this."

The look of relief on Nick's face as I began to tuck everything back into the box again was almost worth the struggle I had endured to teach him. I patted his cheek nicely in an attempt to make up for his pricked fingers, feeling bad for putting him through that.

Nick could balance a blade on his fingers but when it came to needles, he was outie like a belly button.

Cage looked very bored so I decided to bother him instead. "What's up, buttercup?" I grinned at him when he returned my greeting with a cold glare. "What's the deal, banana peel? What's shakin', bacon- sorry, I'm done now. How far away is this place? We've been driving for hours."

"It's been thirty minutes." His voice was tinged with a dark frustration. "November, you don't do drugs, do you?"

"Of course not. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know-" Cage struggled to complete his sentence. "You seem....insane."

"Me?" I pointed to myself, shocked. "Insane? Excuse me, I am not a notorious criminal. I have never sold drugs or killed anyone. I've never smuggled ten tons of cocaine into the United Sates. I'm not the one who kidnapped a teenage girl. I don't have an underground lair filled with unregistered weapons, illegal substances, and millions of dollars. I'm not a billionaire who has to live under the grid because the CIA wants to kill him. You have some nerve to call me insane, Cage. Compared to everyone here, I'm the most normal person in this car-"

"Not really."

"Nope."

"Nah."

"No." The driver added. That was the only thing he ever said for the rest of the car ride.

I made a face at them, to which they all simultaneously ignored. Cage didn't look any happier than before. I suppose the life of a criminal mastermind wasn't always unicorns and sunshine. In fact, the sun seemed to avoid Chicago like I tried to avoid my responsibilities. Or how I tried to avoid nuts because I was highly allergic to them. Not Cage's nuts, unfortunately.

"So where are we going?" I asked nobody in particular.

"To see Romeo." Cage answered in a quiet voice. "There are some things that need to be fixed immediately. Jonah is not going to get away with this. Heath, can you activate the tracking chip?"

Heath shook his head. "No. He ripped it out. Jonah is smarter than we gave him credit for."

"Tracking chip?" I repeated incredulously. This conversation didn't include me at all but I couldn't help add my two cents. "Oh my God, you track your henchmen? That is brilliant- ouch!" Pain suddenly captured my left arm. I was speechless for a few seconds. When I regained my senses, I turned to see Heath holding an empty microchip injection. A soft orange glow in the shape of a very tiny vial flashed on my arm, beneath the skin, before going out. A drop of blood seeped out.

Anger curled through my stomach when I realized what Heath had done.

"You-" I was too furious to finish my sentence. Heath smiled and waved the injection at me, a mockery that was too much. Lunging over the seats, I tried to hit him. As always, it didn't work. Heath finally lost his temper as well. The frustration that had built up over the last hour suddenly came out of him at once. He raised his fists and I was too slow to duck out of the way.

As his hand connected with my face, pain exploded in an agony of white. The force of his slap sent me stumbling backwards. In the car, there wasn't much room to begin with. I tripped over Nick's feet. Micheal grabbed my wrist but failed to stop me from falling.

"What the fuck-"

"Stop!"

"November, are you okay-"

"Olive trees are resistant to disease, drought, and even fire-"

"Calm down-"

"Don't touch her!" Cage suddenly roared. He lunged over the seat like I had to attack Heath. There was a moment of loud male cursing and the car swerved violently. Micheal was trying to ask if I was okay over Cage and Heath fighting. A gun went flying and hit the car window, nearly shattering the glass. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. My heart was pounding. Heath tried to fight back but was easily overpowered. Cage hit him in the jaw as Nick tried to calm everyone down.

The driver ignored us and continued to drive as if two large men weren't fighting like bears in the backseat of his car and we weren't all screaming.

Cage was about to kill Heath. Frantically, I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him back. Micheal was trying to do the same to Heath. After a moment of struggling, we managed to separate them. Breathing heavily, Cage sat back down. Heath was barely able to stay up straight as Micheal tried to calm things down.

"No! Was that necessary?" I slapped Cage's arm furiously. "Was that really necessary? Did you have to do that? Did you? No! You are disrespecting your ancestors! In the same of our lord and saviour Beyoncé, please do not attack others on my account."

"Sorry." Heath muttered angrily. His lip was bleeding and a nasty bruise was beginning to form under his eye. In contrast, Cage looked nothing but a little ruffled, and he quickly slipped back into his cold composure.

"I said I wouldn't hurt you, November." His eyes were a lucid green, suppressing a storm of rage inside. Cage cleared his throat and looked out the window. "That counts for everyone. No one touches you as long as you listen to what I ask. If this happens again, Micheal will have to buy another body bag. Is that clear?"

When no one answered, Cage reached for his gun.

"Yes." Micheal quickly replied.

"Of course." said Nick.

"No." I added.

We all glanced at Heath. He was holding his cheek and sulking at the window. After a moment of tense silence, he muttered a soft "Yes."

Satisfied, Cage turned his attention to me. "November, are you okay?"

"Sure." That is, I was totally sure I wasn't okay. My cheek was still left burning. However, Heath was in much worse shape. I couldn't help but feel even guiltier though I tried to justify it with everything I could. Heath was a monster, but so was Cage. He had no right to keep me here or slip a tracking chip into my body, but Heath didn't deserve to get hurt. I didn't either.

Tempers were a very dangerous thing.