Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Not even in chip form.
“Fork? I question at the same time I unlock the vehicle for him. “Or is that gonna cost me extra?”
Kipp opens the door and presents the plate along with the utensil. “Just your keys.”
Digging them out from my bag is an easy task as is taking the plastic wrapped dish I’m practically salivating to devour.
What can I say?
It was a long drive from the Florida Georgia border to Texas and the desperation to wrack up the most number of miles I possibly could before he theoretically caught wind of my escape was the only thing on my mind.
Not sleep.
Not food.
Not even gas, which may be all my damn car needs with my luck.
Rather than shut the door behind him, my mechanic leaves it wide open, although I’m not sure if that’s his attempt at opening a channel of communication or hearing me better or hoping I step out to join him.
Sucks if it’s the latter because that shit’s not happening.
Getting close to people isn’t really my thing.
Especially physically.
And getting to eat without having to look over my shoulder is an even rarer occasion that I am definitely about to live up.
I don’t waste another moment ripping off the wrap and shoving a forkful of potato into my mouth. Heavenly flavors of garlic and butter assault my tongue, like Bonnie and Clyde on a country wide spree, resulting in a loud moan and me quickly scooping up a second bite.
And then a third.
And then a fourth and fifth and somewhere around the sixth the man at the front of my car lowers the hood just enough to grouse, “That’s really fucking distracting, baby.”
“Baby?” I lick away the amount that’s managed to get onto my lips. “Did you just call me baby?”
“No.” He rapidly shakes his head and continues to deny the accusation in spite of his very, very red face. “I said Bunny. Because your name is Bunny.”
He did not.
But this little white lie gets a pass courtesy of this big hunk of amazingness fucking my tastebuds.
“Whatever you say, kid.” The brush off is done on a stab to the meatloaf. “Hey, why does Winnie the Douche call you Kid, anyway? How young are you?”
“How young are you?” he challenges between tinkering.
“Old enough.”
“Same.”
His tit for tat method is one I don’t mind.
He can have his secrets.
And I’ll keep mine.
“How old’s Nolan?”
“Forty.”
“Oh, his age you’ll reveal?”
Small chuckles precede his response, “I was just a kid when we met. Always thought the nickname was simply his way of showin’ he cares.”
“Do hugs not work?”
He momentarily lowers the hood again. “Does he look like a hugger to you?”
“He looks like he needs a fucking hug.”
“And you need to give this beauty some TLC,” Kipp scolds at the same time he resumes his inspection. “This shit looks like it hasn’t been maintained since it left the lot.”
“Because it hasn’t.”
“Why not?” More sounds echo throughout the garage. “Can’t afford it?”
Not the way he’s thinking.
Money isn’t the issue.
My safety is.
“Discover anything good, Vespucci?” I drop the fork near the edge of the plate to pick up the ear of corn. “Perhaps a quick and easy fix that’ll have me out of here in the next couple of hours before the sun and the big unfriendly giant are up?”
“No.” Kipp’s long pause has me preparing to playfully poke a second time when he makes his way towards the door holding an unfortunate tiny box up for me to see. “Found this under your front bumper.”
Every cell in my body freezes.
Every ounce of air vanishes.
No.
No. No. No.
I checked for that!
I swore I checked for that!
“It’s busted,” he cautiously announces, taunting object being leisurely rotated in his grip.
“Is there um…” my voice struggles to steady. “Is there uh…anyway to um…tell when it stopped working?”
Kipp shakes his head slowly. “I could ask around, though. Call some people and-”
“No!”
Concern in his expression deepens.
Hardens.
“Don’t do that.”
He knows so many people.
In so many places.
It’s what’s made it so fucking hard to stay hidden in any one place for too long.
I never know who’s watching.
Listening.
Working for him.
“Please…don’t…do…anything,” I forcefully beg. “Please, Kipp.”
The object is casually placed on the roof of the vehicle prior to him bracing one arm against it to support him as he leans his frame forward. “Bunny, is someone following you?”
Completely abandoning the will to eat and damn near the one to live is accompanied by my whispered response, “More like hunting.”
Chapter 5
Nolan
Funny thing about living and working and damn near doing everything with someone?
You grow this ability to just know they’re there even when they’re not speaking.
Even when they’re just looming at the edge of your tiny ass kitchen near the coffeemaker you need, throwing daggers at the back of your head because you somehow went from asshat to asshole while you were sleeping.
Pretty sure that’s not what the old ass movie was about.