Page 103 of Queen Of Dark Money

Iwoulddo this.

Ihad to.

Thesun was higher in the sky now that there wasn’t a bike helmet between me and the light, andIwinced as the glare from the car windows bounced back at me and blinded me momentarily.Shieldingmy face with my hand,Imarched over to the nearest unmarked cop car, slamming the tip of this bat into the side of the tire.

Thehissas the air escaped it and the car sank on one side was so satisfactory,Igiggled to myself.

Thiswas going to be fun.

Carafter car,Iflattened three of each vehicle’s tires, leaving them all cockeyed in the rear, like they were bowing to me.Then, as the first group of media personnel spilled out of the building and caught sight of me,Ijumped up on the car in the middle of the row and brought the bat down in the center of the windshield.

Theglass spiderwebbed out from the impact, making a satisfying crunching sound asIbrought the bat down again, laughing maniacally now, the sound echoing eerily off the walls of the building.Thefirst flash caught me off-guard, the bustle getting louder as they talked amongst themselves, questions flying.

Ididn’t see any cops, though, which meantSpectrehadn’t been lying.Somehow, he’d managed to subdue the response team.

Ihad ten minutes to cause as much damage as possible and get the fuck out of there.

Onecar down, six more to go.

Ihopped from one to the next, making sure to pose creatively for the cameras asIbrought that bat down on every single car’s windshield, from the ground as well as the roofs.Minutesticked by, andIknewI’dhave to speed up or give up on the idea of damaging every car.

Iwas wrapped up in the chaos around me as cameramen scrambled to get a good shot, reporters rushed forward with their microphones and recorders, and random people rubbernecking with their phones out like the social media fiends they all were.Itwas intoxicating, being the source of all this chaos, the exciting thing of the day.Iwanted them to really get the whole idea, soIswung the bat with pizzaz, put my back intoit, and spun in circles whileIlaughed like a maniac, my ponytail swinging around my head with every move.

Itreated it like a game until the first cop showed up.

Hedidn’t look like the ones inside, soIhad to assume someone had flagged down a beat cop, probably on foot in the nearby park, in the hopes he could do something.Butthe beat cops in the park didn’t carry a gun.Allthey were allowed to carry on them was mace, and a taser.Andhe had to get close enough to me to use either.

Ididn’t plan to let him.

“Hey, hey miss, over here!” one reporter shouted over the others, his hand in the air, a camera on the shoulder of the guy next to him, the little blinking red light evidence that he was recording.

Showtime.

“Whoare you?Whyare you wrecking the cop cars?Doyou know they’re the personal escort of theDistrictAttorney–”

Ileaned down and put the tip of my bat against his chest, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. “EddySinclairis a liar and a cheat.He’drather hire a hitman to kill me than admit he had two daughters.Heturned me over to theKingsand then put a target on my head.”Iswung the bat back up onto my shoulder, turning so the camera got a nice shot of my ass just beneath the skirt asIhopped back up on the hood of the first car. “TheKingssaved me.Theykept me safe not once, but twice, even though they knew they had the daughter of their enemy in their hands.”Iswung that bat down again, crushing the hood of the car.Thedying wail of the horn was such a sweet melody. “Theyoffered to ransom me toSinclair.Heturned it down and gave the money to a man who tried to put a bullet in me, twice, instead.”Slam, slam.“AndI’mhere to remind him thatI’mnot that easily eliminated.Hecan hire a hundred hitmen, and it won’t matter.”

Istared straight into the cameras, with an award-winning smile, and my eyes wide open, letting all the hatredIhad for my birth father seep up and overwhelm me.Iknew he’d see this video and flip shit, butIwanted him to know just how fucked he really was.Justhow badly he messed up, not coming for me like he should have.

“Doyou have any words forDistrictAttorneySinclair?”

Theeager reporter shoved his microphone in my face, as did a host of others, andIgrinned likeI’dbeen waiting for this moment my whole life. “Asa matter of fact,Ido.”

Islammed the bat into the windshield of the car behind me and took a seat on the end of the hood, perched there likeIhad all the time in the world and not a single fuck to give.Becausetechnically,Ididn’t.Rafewould be jetting around the corner any minute now, andI’dhop on the back of his bike, and we’d scamper off to parts unknown, leaving behind the wreckage and a very pissed-offD.A. and his entourage of disabled cops.

“Heythere,Dad.Iknow you’d like to pretendIdon’t exist, thatI’mjust some little bug you think you can crush under your boot.Butyou’re not going to be able to hide this one.Thecat’s out of the bag.I’mnotCaitSinclair.I’mKerenzaDiaz, your other daughter, a twin, and according to you, expendable.”Iyanked the bunny mask off my face, leering into the camera, revealing myself for maximum effect. “Andif you keep sending hit men after me, we’ll be sending them back to you in pieces.One,”Iyanked the bat out of the glass, chunks of it flying around me now, “by one,”Iburied it in the door ofEddy’sfancyBMW, which until thenI’dleft untouched, “by one,”Idented his driver door, dragging the barbed wire down the side, gouging his pretty, expensive baby. “Untilthere’s nothing left.”

Iheard the revving engine ofRafe’sbike and jumped down, using the crowd to keep distance between me and the cop with the mace can out and ready.Iwaved off the eager reporterstrying to get me to talk longer, more, buying the damned police time to get here and subdue me.

JustasIreached the end of the crowd, feet away fromRafe’sbike, a shot rang out in the air, ricocheting off a nearby car.Thewhole crowd dove for the ground, screaming and panicking, some of them scattering like cockroaches.

Rafeheld a hand out with a helmet in it, his eyes wide, panic setting in on his face as he shoved the visor up on his own. “Hurryup!”Hescreamed, andIreached out to take the helmet from his grip, only to have the next bullet glance off the side of the damn thing inches away from my hand, knocking it to the ground.

Fuckthe helmet,I’lltake my chances.

Ibit back the bile rising in my throat and hopped on his back, gripping him asIscreamedgo, go, go!in his ear.Hedidn’t hesitate a second, peeling out like a bat out of hell, two fancy sports cars on our tail.Ididn’t hear another shot ring out, soIhoped we’d left the gunner behind in the crowd of people at the courthouse.

Rafedidn’t slow down for red lights, he didn’t slow for traffic, he didn’t even slow for cops.Hisbike blasted past them at speedsIhad never before seen a bike reach whileIwas on it, and if it hadn’t been my life on the line,Imight’ve asked him to slow down, or stop, soIcould lean over the side of the road and vomit.

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