Snippet from upcoming Vaya con Dios Chapter 20: We Are The Champions
I thought I'd give y'all a little treat uwu
“So,” Billy says, slowing the car to a stop before a long, flat stretch of road. “Steve said you drove like a maniac, the night you drugged me and stole my car.”
Max freezes in her seat, and Billy sees the welling spring of fear in her eyes. Guilt nips at him.
“Relax, squirt,” he says, reaching over to nudge her shoulder with his elbow. “C’mon. Get out. Swap.”
“Wh–... swap…?” she says, staring at him like he’s grown an extra head.
“Yeah. Swap. Bet your old man gave you what, like, one shot at driving before we left California, right? That’s how you knew how to get the car going in the first place?”
Max nods slowly.
“Right. So swap. No point driving like an idiot if you don’t know how to.”
Billy reaches for the car door and pauses as Max grabs the arm of his jacket, still looking at him with big, wide eyes.
“But… why? You aren’t… aren’t you mad at me…? Why…?”
He hesitates. Shifts and slumps back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
“Yeah, I was mad at you. My car was messed up at the front, but I thought that shitty sherif dude had driven my car like an asshole just to mess with me, so when I found out it was you, and you were driving all your dweeb friends and an unconscious Steve in the middle of the night out into the fields to go rabid coyote hunting in some goddamn tunnels, yeah. I was pretty goddamn mad. That was stupid shit, Max. You could’ve crashed and killed everyone. No, listen,” he says as Max opens her mouth to protest.
She snaps it shut again.
“You think you’re this tough guy ‘cause you’ve taken some shit and you don’t cry easy, and you’re angry, and you’re not like the other girls. I get it.”
Max has let go of his sleeve, hands folded in her lap and face doing something complicated that Billy can’t read.
“I get it,” he repeats, a little softer, trying to stop her looking so damn scared of him. Then he takes a slow, steadying breath, trying to drag all the thoughts and fears he has together into something she’ll understand.
“You’re a bitch, but you’re not gonna be someone’s bitch, y’hear me? You’re tough. Guys like Sinclaire, they respect that. Respect you. They better, anyhow. Guys like Neil goddamn hate it, they wanna rip that shit outta you. They wanna make you as small as they can, make sure you never fight them back. He’s gonna hit you and your mom as soon as he gets a reason good enough in his head, and he’s gonna try to get you so you can’t do shit about it. I ain’t gonna be here to take all that heat forever. So you gotta be able to take care of yourself. He’s not the only Neil in the world.”
Max twists her fingers together. Bites down on her lower lip to hide the wobble. Steels herself. Billy continues, gripping the steering wheel.
“So swap. If you need to get the hell out before you can learn for real, ain’t no point crashing my car and killing yourself ‘cause you drive like shit. ‘Sides, he won’t think you can do it, so.”
“Yeah,” Max says, a slight rasp in her voice. Her eyes are bright, cheeks dry as she nods her head and unbuckles her seatbelt, clambering out of the car. Billy follows, settling into the passenger side as Max climbs into the driver’s seat and closes the door.
Read the whole fic here. [Harringrove, E rated, slow burn, h/c, enemies to friends to lovers etc]
Villain stans that go on and on about restorative justice because it's just a nicer way of saying your " heroes have to baby and pamper and emotional labor the villains to goodness 😍 🥺" bullshit.
You villain stans are so entitled you've never had to deal with someone wanting you dead and you have the audacity to say it's good to force people to be kind to oppressors, mass murderers and rapists.