Page 42 of Stripping Keys
No one but me was gonna be doing anything to Marla. When I get my hands on her, I intend to fucking tan her ass for this shit.
What the fuck was she thinking? This type of thing needs planning.
Ending the call with West, I look at my brothers.
“Don’t care how badass she is, this is fucked,” Nines growls.
“Let’s just get the fuck on the road and find her.” Blow snarls, moving back to his bike.
“I’m sending you all the pin for her phone. She left the regular tracking on it because she wants us to track her. At least she kept it easy that way.”
Removing the fuel nozzle from my bike, I straddle the seat, my mind racing with possible scenarios of what was about to happen.
Following after her, my mind goes from the different scenarios to thoughts of what ifs. I didn’t answer her question. I didn’t tell her exactly what she means to me. I didn’t tell her nearly half of what I want to tell her. Hell, I haven’t even had her in my life long enough to be satisfied.
A lifetime with her wouldn’t even be enough to satisfy me.
Now, I’ve got to get to her and save her ass before she gets her ass executed. I’ll be pissed if she gets herself killed before I have a chance to tell her all of this or spend a lifetime with her. No way in hell is she going to go before me. Not going to fucking happen.
Nearly an hour and a half passes before we catch up to her on the road. Damn car is a speed demon. I don’t know what she’s done to modify it, but it took us longer than it should have for us to catch up to her.
The worst part is she keeps pulling away from us.
Fuck me.
I’m going to have to find out what the hell she’s done to that Camaro. They’re supposed to be fast, but this car was different somehow.
Finally, she pulls off the main road down a small county road. Thank fuck when she comes to a stop and gets out. I pull up next to her, put the kickstand down, and jump off, ready to get in her face.
“What the fuck are you thinking?” I snarl, stalking toward her.
Marla rolls her eyes, pissing me off more, and moves to the back of her trunk.
“Answer me, damnit.” Moving into her space, I grip her arm and spin her to face me.
“I’m ending it,” she says with a shrug.
“You need to get your ass back to the clubhouse is what you need to do,” Blow growls, coming up next to me.
“No, I’m not,” Marla snaps, eyes flaring with anger, and throws the trunk open. “This is why.”
We all take a look at the trunk, and no joke, I have to blink at the inside.
“Holy fuck,” Shiner groans.
“That’s a sniper’s dream,” Sniper groans.
The inside of her trunk was like a full-on arsenal. Multiple guns were on display tucked in beautifully so as not to get scratched up in their own cubbies. Grenades, smoke bombs, handguns, and AKs. Enough ammo for each.
“You drive around with this shit in your car?” Nines shoots Marla an accusing look.
“I always have things I need with me in case of an emergency.” She shrugs again. “Calyx taught me to never go without having what you need on you.”
“But you don’t always have this car with you.” I knew that from working with her in the past. She told me that when she goes to get info from targets or just to gather what’s needed, she has other means. Typically, she goes without a vehicle.
“I know,” she says, meeting my gaze. “This is my personal collection.”
“Fuck me.” Lucky grunts. “And here I thought my ol’ lady was crazy, Keys. Yours takes the cake.”
