Page 29 of Delivered in White

“Thank you, sir. Of course, sir.” He nods for me to follow him, and I snap at Capri to follow me.

“I’m not a dog,” she barks.

We’re escorted through a chop-shop where cars are lifted on heavy duty hydraulic machines while mechanics work furiously to strip and repurpose stolen vehicles. Tech guys stand there with their diagnostic tablets connected to the cars, probably to wipe the computers of any trace GPS. My cousin has a good operation going. Ambitious prick.

“Here you go, boss.” The mechanic presents an early nineties navy blue Volkswagen that looks like it’s about three miles from breaking down.

I glare at the mechanic.

“Runs good, boss. Promise.” He smiles, revealing a row of silver teeth. My inkling is someone punched the originals right out after he told that to someone else.

Conceding is my only choice here. Can’t risk the GPS of an Uber, so I hold out my hand and he drops the keys, then I glance at Capri, who’s frowning like she just stepped in shit.

“It’s only for a few miles. Get in,” I say.

I shove the key in the ignition, listening to the piece of crap rumble to life.

“Oh, a massage chair,” Capri’s voice shakes.

I scoff while pulling out of the lot and back onto the street. Best to take it easy in case we lose a bumper along the way. This is going to trigger my OCD once we make it to my house. Dirty piece of garbage that I have to hold in my garage.Mmph.Doesn’t bode well.

“Start talking, mister.”

“Didn’t we talk enough on the way here?” I side-eye her.

“No. Where’s my dad? Is it safe to go to my old house for some clothes—”

“Your old house? Are you fucking nuts?”

She folds her arms and stares at me with those big blue eyes. Her tits jiggle as she props them up unintentionally – distracting me, making me picture her shirt off. Not sure I’ve ever been in contact with a woman this long without seeing her naked. It’s fucking weird.

“Eyes up here.” She points to them.

“Don’t start. I wasn’t staring.”

“You glanced.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Not interested.”

“The feeling’s mutual!” She pouts, and I sigh.

We’re both lying, obviously. If only she wasn’t a prude, we’d be fucking in the back seat right now.

“Well? Where’s my dad? What happened with the house?” she asks, her face filling with heat. Her voice changed too. What’s the matter with her?

“Your dad is fine. We’re going to see them tomorrow… at our wedding.”

She gasps.

“Yeah.”

“But… I don’t have a ring, a dress.My clothes are at home!”

“Stop with this ‘home’ talk. Home is nowmyhouse. When we got rid of Sonny and Groundhog, the Lucrazi goons kept poking around, so I ordered a fumigation service to cover the house and triple-dose it with poisonous fumes so no one could enter. Right after Gil called the cops and the goons were shooed away, I had Sonny’s car towed into the river. There’s not a trace of him, and nothing for the Lucrazis to try and nab from your house, which is why they’re gunning foryou.”

Her eyes are wide in shock. “Okay… I’ll admit. You’renotJackie Junior.”

“No shit.”

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