Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 126098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
His eyebrows knitted together. “4,000.”
Abby tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “3,000.”
“3,800,” the kid snapped.
Shooter groaned, but Abby didn’t look at him. “3200. Cash. Right now,” she said.
At that the kid perked up considerably. “Yeah, okay, deal!” Abby took out the cash that she had bundled into stacks of a thousand each and handed him three of them. He pulled the title and the keys out of his pocket and handed them over.
Then he grinned at Abby. “I could use a ride home,” he said to her.
Tex answered from behind her. “Then take your 3,200 dollars in cash and get yourself a cab.”
The kid startled for a moment and nodded, tucking the stacks into his pants and pulling his shirt down over it. He took off for the sidewalk out front.
“A fool and his money are soon parted,” Tex said in a gravel tone.
Abby saw him looking right at her. “This is a classic car!” she insisted.
Shooter frowned. “Vegas, this is a classic piece of shit. And you overpaid by at least three hundred dollars.”
She laughed. “Some women waste their money on manicures. I really want this car. You lack vision, Sir. And I’m sorry for you.”
Shooter and Tex exchanged a look as Abby dug a list out of her purse and handed it to Shooter. “Do you think you could order me the parts on that list? That’ll get me started,” she asked, then took out the remaining thousand dollar stack and the leftover three hundred. “This should cover it.”
Shooter examined the list and the money in his hand. “Yeah, sure, Vegas. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks!” she said looking down at the keys. Attached was a skull with red paint that looked like blood on it. “Ugh.” She took it off the chain and handed it to Tex. “Here.”
She lowered the hood and headed to the driver’s side. She pushed in the clutch, noting it definitely needed a new one, at the kid hadn’t lied about that. She cranked the engine and eight cylinders of Detroit steel roared to life, extra loudly since the muffler was shot. She made a face at the faint smell of gas and noted that she needed a new fuel system, too. She waved goodbye to Tex and Shooter and rolled her version of a mani-pedi toward her condo.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tex watched Vegas take her piece of classic shit home and shook his head at the skull he was holding in his hands. Shooter grinned. “We just made 1,300 dollars without actually doing anything,” he laughed. Then he glanced down at the list. “Does she know what to with all this?”
Tex grinned. “I sure hope not.”
Shooter shook his head. “I don’t think she’s one of yours, Tex. She put that kid down hard. I’d say she doesn’t have a submissive bone in her body.”
Tex still smiled. “You’d be surprised.”
Shooter raised his eyebrows. “How can you tell?”
Tex shrugged. “I can’t, but just because she wouldn’t let a pissant take advantage of her doesn’t necessarily mean she wouldn’t submit to the right man. If he asked her to.” Tex pocketed the skull and headed back toward the garage, taking a final note of the oil stain on the gravel. He shook his head, smiling. “Let me know when those parts come in,” he called over his shoulder. “Before you call her.”
Three days later, on Wednesday, Tex pulled his Hummer up outside Abby’s condo at a little after 6 pm. He picked up one of the boxes and headed to her garage, the door of which was one-third of the way up. He heard the faint sounds of Tom Petty.
“Vegas?” He ducked down and entered the garage.
“Tex?”
“Yeah, babe. Got a special delivery,” he replied. Then he kicked himself for sounding like every porno movie ever made. But Abby didn’t seem to notice. It gave him pause. Slick would have laughed. Maybe Abby was too young for him. She was just out of college and couldn’t be older than 23 or 24. Slick wasn’t much older than that, but still. For all of Abby’s professional suits, she was still just a young woman.
“Oh, thanks!” she said, taking the box from him. “You didn’t have to do this. I could have come by the garage.”
He smiled at her. “Delivery’s free.” He looked around the garage. “Whoa,” he said, as he looked off to his left and saw that Abby had laid out a tarp and had parts lined up in rows. He went over to investigate.
“Be careful,” she warned, setting the box down on the concrete in the corner. “I have a system.”
Tex eyed the tarp carefully. It wasn’t laid out in a typical 3-D pattern. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I’m...not seeing it.”
She laughed and came up beside him. “It’s alphabetical.”
He stared at it again. “Oh, shit, okay. Now I’ve got it. But, Vegas, no one does it that way.”