Page 7 of The Job

As soon as they are out of sight I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, deciding to send a text rather than call, since I’m still so on edge. Not waiting for a reply, I put my phone back in my pocket and head to the trunk of my car.

I always keep a spare first aid kit in here for situations just like this. I grab some alcohol wipes out of the kit and start cleaning the cuts I know are on my face. Of course, I need to see what I am doing, so I head around to the side of the car, glance in the car window, and curse. For fuck sake, Mom’s going to kill me. My face is an absolute mess.

Not as bad as Billy’s, though I know that shouldn’t make me smile, but he was the fucker that attacked me and brought his friend along as well. It’s not my fault that I fought back.

I can’t get all of the blood off, no matter how hard I try, and I actually think I’m making it worse; it doesn’t help that it is starting to fucking sting now. Moving back around to the trunk, I throw the used wipes in there, calling it a lost cause. Instead, I grab the bottle of whisky I have had rolling around in there since Riot’s birthday, slam the trunk, and go to sit on the curb, waiting for the guys. There is no way I’m risking getting blood on my seats; I should have known better than to get a cream interior.

My arms rest on my knees, the bottle dangling from my fingers as I take a sip every now and then, the warmth of the whisky burning my throat in a pleasant way.

I don’t have to wait much longer for the guys to arrive, and I can’t help but smile as Trick’s truck comes screeching into the lot. He stops it as soon as he sees me, and they all jump out.

“You parked in the middle of the lot,” I point out drily, my eyebrow rising before I wince with pain as it reopens the cut that had only just stopped bleeding.

“What the fuck!” Trick exclaims as they all rush over to me. “What the fuck happened?”

I clear my throat and then take another sip of whiskey. “Billy and Lucky were here; they left while I was in the store, at least I thought they did. Joe locked up, and they jumped me. Lucky had to stop me from going after Billy anymore.”

Jensen’s eyes are full of his own kind of darkness, except his is always present unlike my own, and he studies me closely before he swipes the bottle off me and sits down next to me, taking a swig himself.

“Your scary side came out to play, huh?” he asks with absolutely no judgment in his tone at all.

I nod, “Lucky called me a psycho.”

The guys share a look and then grin. All of their smiles have an edge to them.

“Good,” Trick says firmly. “Hopefully, they will back the fuck off now they have seen what you’re capable of. I am done with their bullshit.”

“Same,” I reply.

“How bad is it?” Rafe signs.

Frowning, I take stock of my injuries, “My face is fucked, I thought my ribs were broken, but I think they are just bruised, so there’s that.”

“Okay, it could be worse, at least there is nothing broken,” Trick breathes on a sigh of relief.

“Your mom is going to kill you,” Luc winces as he studies my face.

I nod, “Yeah, I think I’m probably more scared of her reaction than I was fighting them.”

“I would be,” Jensen snickers, taking another sip of whiskey. I quickly snag the bottle back, making him pout.

“Uncalled for,” I retort, making him laugh.

“We’re going to have to clean you up as best we can and then hope for the best,” Rafe signs, although the look on his face says that he doesn’t think cleaning the blood off is going to do much.

Chapter Five

Cash

“We are also going to have to do something about his clothes,” Trick points out.

“Shit,” I curse as I pull out my light and shine it at myself.

“Whoa!” Jensen exclaims. “When you said you beat them, you really meant that you fucking beat them.”

“Damn,” Riot whistles, sounding slightly shocked.

I can’t say I’m surprised, I was wearing a white shirt, and it’s not white anymore, it’s splattered and smeared with blood, my own, Billy’s, and Lucky’s.

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