“I’ll meet you at the bar in an hour,” Mustache man said to whoever he was talking to. “Yeah, I’ll just hang out, have a beer and wait, I’m only like five minutes away.”
The creep lifted his head at that moment and caught her watching him. She froze. Did he recognize her? Had he been watching them before he took the car, or did he just stumble across it and think, hey, there’s a nice car, I think I’ll take it?
But there was no recognition on the asshole’s face.
He ended his call, and she forced herself to grin back, and the guy leered.
Okay, shit. Time was of the essence. Options were limited. Getting this car back to Adam’s cousin was important. She was no car expert, but she knew this one was special.
In that moment, she made an executive decision. It was bonkers, she was well aware of that. But what choice did she have?
She had to steal it back.
She was a Colton after all. It was in her blood somewhere, right? Her brothers used to be two of the best thieves in LA. The reckless streak they were always berating her for totally ran in the family.
Still no sign of Adam.
Shit. Right. She was doing this. Fighting down her fear, she put some swing in her hips, and walked over to Handlebar Mustache, who had now ended his call. “Nice car.”
He gave her a slow once-over. “You like it, huh?”
“Sure do.”
“You need a ride someplace, sweet thing?”
Well, that was easier than she thought. “Maybe, where are you headed?”
He grinned. “There’s a bar a few miles back. You in the mood to party?”
A public place—surprising since he’d just stolen a freaking car. But also not that surprising since the guy obviously wasn’t too smart. She could handle a bar. Plus, she’d heard him talking to someone on his phone mere seconds ago, someone he was going to meet at this bar, so she knew he wasn’t lying. “Sure, why not,” she said, heart racing like crazy.
The fact this guy seemed completely fine with picking up some random woman and taking her for a spin in the car he’d just boosted, not only confirmed that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, it also showed how delusional he was about his own appeal.
The guy licked his lips. “Well, all right, hop in.”
Chapter Ten
Holy shit. She was actually getting into the car with this dude.
He shut the door behind her and mouthed through the window. “I’ll just go pay.”
As soon as he was in the shop, she slid over and checked the ignition. Crap. No key. She didn’t even have her phone to text Adam and tell him what was going on, because she’d left it in her other bag. Second and third thoughts were yelling like crazy in her head when the driver’s door opened and Mr. Mustache climbed in beside her.
“Let’s go.”
She forced another smile. Don’t freak out.
Still no Adam.
She was fine. This was good. As soon as they got to the bar, she’d find a way of getting the keys off him and then she’d simply drive away. Easy. He fired up the engine at the same time she glanced back across the street again to where she’d last seen Adam.
He walked out…
Lucy watched as his eyes drifted across the street, and saw the minute they landed on the Superbird.
His expression went from surprised determination to mass murder when he spotted her sitting in the passenger seat.
He started sprinting toward them.
Mr. Mustache was oblivious to it all as they pulled out onto the street and drove away.
Well, fuck. Shit just got really, really real.
At least Adam knew where she was. He could call the cops again, tell them he’d seen the car, and which way it was headed.
The creep beside her turned her way, gaze sliding up her legs, hovering at her chest before he looked back at the road. “Today must be my lucky day.”
Oh God!
It was hard, but she forced herself not to recoil. “Mine too.”
All she had to do was somehow get the keys off this guy before things took a turn for the worse. And by worse, she meant Mr. Mo getting too damn close. Going by the grip he had on the back of her neck as they walked into the bar a short time later, she wasn’t hopeful.
She’d had two beers before she got her first chance. She’d managed to mouth ‘light’ to the barman when Chuck, aka Mr. Mustache, had ordered, so her head was clear.
His friend hadn’t arrived yet, but time was running out. And unbelievably, the guy still seemed completely at ease. He didn’t seem paranoid that the cops would suddenly show up and arrest his ass. Which kind of pointed to the fact that Chuck was a loose cannon and someone she needed to get the hell away from as soon as possible.
Chuck was leaning over the pool table, key dangling from his back pocket. Lucy glanced around the bar. No one was watching. You can do this.