* * *
“Now where are we going?” I ask after dinner. I’m full and sleepy and horny because Diem is still in the dress that barely covers the ass I’m going to fuck tonight.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Shut up.”
Fucking woman. I continue down the road until we finally come to a large port just off the river filled with shipment containers.
“Find number 8794.” I find the eights and drive nearly to the end of the lane. This is the perfect place to kill someone and I make sure to keep Diem in my peripherals at all times.
“Here,” I say, pulling up next to the container and shutting off the car. Unlike all the others, this one looks brand new. She gets out and I follow her to the locked container. Fishing a key from her cleavage, she unlocks the container and pushes the door up.
“Go ahead.” She motions for me to go in and I shake my head.
“You first.”
Rolling her eyes, she calls me a baby and walks in. Inside the dimly lit container is a truck. An exact replica of my truck before she wrecked it. I run my fingers down the cool metal door and peer into the blacked-out windows.
“How did you get this? My insurance?” I question, still not believing that my baby is here in front of my very eyes.
“I owe you a truck. And eight hundred and seventy-three dollars. It’s in the glove box.” I stare at her over the hood. She’s not bullshitting me.
“My insurance would have bought me a new truck.”
“I know that. But my insurance is better.” She smiles. “I come from money. This is nothing.”
“Spoiled little rich girl.” I smirk, but she finds no humor in my words.
“I’ve earned every penny I’ve ever spent and then some.” The ice is in her eyes. The steel is in her voice. The conviction she so often conveys is in her words. She means what she says, and I believe her.
“I would say thank you, but you owed it to me, so I won’t.”
“I don’t need your thanks, Zeke. All I need is for you to know that I always keep good on my word.” Diem didn’t have to buy a truck to prove that to me. I already knew it. But, since she’s being so generous, I know something else she promised that I’m still waiting on. Neither of us had won the bet, so she doesn’t have to give it to me tonight, but I’m hoping like hell she will.
She notices the flash of heat in my eyes, and it feels like someone dashed it with cold water when I watch that wicked smile creep across her face. I already know what’s coming, and I start shaking my head in protest.
“Welcome to locker 8794,” she says, holding her arms out and looking around for emphasis. “Where no other man has gone before.”
* * *
My phone rings in the early hours of the morning waking me. I untangle myself from Diem and reach over to the nightstand, hitting things until I find it.
“Yeah?” I say gruffly.
“Get up. Meet me at my house. I have something for you.” Rookie hangs up in my ear and I slide quietly out of bed. I make minimal noise getting dressed and grabbing my duffel, but Diem speaks to me before I can make a clean getaway.
“You coming back?” she asks sleepily. She’s most beautiful and vulnerable this time of day—sleepy and naked and tangled in my sheets. My very expensive sheets.
“Not sure, pretty girl. Stay though. Be here when I get home.” She nods, submitting to my demand before turning over on her stomach. I leave the bedroom quickly, and I don’t look back.
* * *
Rookie lives about an hour from me. I drive my new truck to his house, getting there as fast as possible. He’s standing outside when I arrive, smoking a cigarette. Rookie is always calm and controlled, so there is no way of knowing if what I’m walking into is bad or really bad. To him, it’s all the same.
He motions for me to follow him and leads me to his shed. Flipping on a light switch, two dead Death Mob members, riddled in bullet holes, lay on the floor. Next to a woman.
“Who’s she?” I ask, pointing to the half-naked woman.
“Collateral damage,” he says, lighting another cigarette.
“I don’t like collateral damage.” My temper is rising as I look at the young woman who Rookie has been kind enough to turn faceup and cover with a sheet.
“Yeah? Me neither. But they killed her, so I killed them. I figured I better take them all.”
“Why did they kill her?”
“Don’t think they meant to. She was standing across the street when they shot. They missed me. But they got her. Right in the heart.”
“Fuuuuckkk.” I run my hands through my hair. “What happened?”