Page 6 of Daring

"I can, can you?" Abigail doesn't want to come off as arrogant, but it just happens. Gretel's almost innocent way of looking at her has her fascinated. As if she's never fantasized about a woman when Abigail is sure that's all she's thinking about now.

"Yes, I can. The plan sounds good, distraction and execution. How do we do it?" Gretel impatiently asks to change the subject.

"Alright."

Abigail takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as if it's part of a ritual before springing into action.

"I'll pay, then we'll both go to the restroom. When we come out, I'll innocently stumble into them, and you'll take advantage of the distraction to grab the keys."

"Sounds good," Gretel agrees, so intoxicated that she fails to see the danger in what they're about to do anywhere.

Abigail stands up, blinking a couple of times to control the slight dizziness she felt. Once composed, she puts on her jacket, grabs the briefcase, and heads to the bar, using the company card for something unrelated to her work for the first time. She feels a momentary guilt, but it fades when she thinks of her brothers and all they waste without a hint of guilt or shame.

When Abigail returns from the bar, and Gretel sees her approaching, she rises so swiftly that the room spins uncontrollably. She stumbles to the side, thinking she'll collapse, but Abigail firmly grabs her waist, pulling her close, preventing her from falling or moving.

Gretel inhales the scent of vanilla and roses she believes emanates from Abigail, letting her flushed cheek graze Abigail's. In that moment, with closed eyes, she feels secure. Awkwardly, she moves her arms to encircle Abigail in a hug, a gesture both women need more than they realize. Abigail says nothing, keeping her eyes open, gaze fixed on the wall, believing that having a woman embrace her is enough, a lifeline when she feels the world crumbling beneath her.

"Are you ready?" she asks Gretel when she thinks enough time has passed.

"Yes, sorry. Remind me never to drink tequila again in my life."

"Saying that should be a crime," Abigail responds, slowly pulling away from her.

"A crime is what we're about to do."

They exchange smiles and head toward the women's restroom Gretel first, followed by Abigail. Abigail takes the lead, not giving Gretel a chance to reconsider their twisted plan.

Exiting the restroom together, Abigail in front and Gretel behind, they pass by the men's table, which, now up close, seems more sinister and dangerous to Abigail. She pretends to stumble and falls forward onto one of the men.

"Hey, careful, princess," he laughs, taking advantage to touch as much flesh as he can when he catches her.

Abigail feels his hand glide across her thigh and up to her buttocks, taking advantage of the excuse. Tense, she says nothing, because at that moment, Gretel also leans over to help her.

"Are you okay?" her new friend asks, pulling her up.

"Yes, sorry," she says, feigning embarrassment.

"It's been a pleasure, gorgeous. Whenever you want, you can join the party," he says crudely, grabbing his erection.

Abigail smiles uncontrollably. Not because of the lewd comment or the obscene gesture, but because, with a quick glance toward the table, she ecstatically sees that the car keys are no longer there. She has done her part, and Gretel has done hers.

"Let us treat you to a round," Abigail says, flirting.

Gretel follows her, her heart tight, toward the bar, tensing as she stands beside her.

"What the hell are you doing? We need to leave," Gretel whispers, tapping her fingers on the bar.

"Buy us some time. As long as they're drinking, they won't leave."

Abigail pays for a round and asks the bartender to take it to the guys at the table. The man looks surprised but complies, and they take advantage of his serving distraction to exit the bar.

As soon as they step outside, Gretel frantically presses the car remote, looking at the cars nearby, hoping for a honk or a light to signal their stolen car.

"Let's head to the dirt parking lot," Abigail suggests.

They navigate around the bar to the back, where there's dim light and a couple getting intimate on a car hood. Both women are nervous, adrenaline coursing through their bodies in a disconcerting way. They haven't devised a plan if things go south, clueless about how each would react if caught.

Gretel presses the remote button again, and immediately, they hear a beep to their left. Both turn, hearts pounding, and see the hazard lights on in a car parked at the far end. They exchange euphoric glances, pleased with their luck. Those lascivious jerks couldn't have parked the car in a more discreet spot. They walk among the cars until they reach the one they seek, a black BMW with tinted rear windows.

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