Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
His eyes bulge so much, I’m certain for a moment they’re going to pop out of his head.
“Ouch,” Danny says behind me.
Right before the pain kicks in and Ringo gets a pillow over my victim’s face to stifle his scream.
I turn to his mate, who’s looking on in horror. “Do you fancy talking?” I ask as muffled cries of pain fill the room. I push the gun to his hip. “Where the fuck is Sandy?”
“I don’t know.”
James, his patience non-existent, moves in and clouts him over the head with his gun. “Fucking talk.”
“I don’t know!”
“So where were you taking the money?” I ask. “Because it feels pretty fucking pointless having two fat cunts like you two collecting cash for him if you’re not gonna drop it off.” So he’s fucking lying. We’re getting nothing out of them. That much is obvious. I aim at his forehead. “It was nice knowing you.” I sink a bullet in his skull as Ringo lifts the pillow on the other guy, giving me access to his head too. I pull the trigger and sigh. “Waste of fucking time that was.” I point to the window. “What’s going on out there?”
“I think they’re getting impatient,” Goldie says from the window. “One’s gotten out.”
“So we have one more stab at this,” Danny says, smiling as he pulls a hunting knife from his jeans.
“Where the fuck did you get that?”
“A friend.”
“Chaka,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You moving to the jungle to wrestle snakes and tigers?”
He bashes his fists on his chest. “Me Tarzan. You—”
“Fucking cunt,” James mutters, going to the window as Ringo chuckles. “The other’s out.”
“Good.” Danny checks out the window too. “It’s my turn.” He faces the room, wandering back to his seat.
And catches his foot on the leg of the coffee table. “Fuck!” He hits the carpet with a thud and in the process manages to fire his gun. “Oops.”
“For fuck’s sake,” James snaps, immediately pulling back his elbow and sending it sailing into the window, smashing it. He aims and fires, and the two guys coming toward the house are soon running away from it. I run to the dead guys and feel through their pockets, pulling out the keys for the X5 that’s blocking the driveway, therefore blocking our cars.
“Good plan,” Danny says, jumping to his feet as James jumps out the window. Danny watches him disappear. “Fuck that.” And runs to the door, yanking it open.
I opt for the conventional exit too, following him out.
And here we go.
Don’t get shot.
39
DANNY
* * *
James is on the lawn, motionless, aiming at the first X5 as it screeches off. “Fuck.” He lowers his gun and paces toward the other.
“Who’s driving?” Brad asks.
“Me.” James gets in the driver’s side. “I’m not trusting that clumsy fuck behind the wheel today, and you’re a better shot.”
“Me?” I blurt, outraged. “Clumsy? I didn’t see the fucking table.” I climb in the back, and Brad gets in the other side, laughing. “Fuck off.” I hit the button to get the back window down as James pulls off, throwing us both back in the seat.
“The good news is I can see them up ahead,” James says.
“The bad news is, I only have three bullets,” Brad adds.
“Five,” I mutter. “Would have been six but a coffee table fucked me over.”
James throws something over his shoulder. Two magazines. “See what you can do with nine and eleven.”
“You’ve got to get in front of them.” Brad switches his half-empty magazine for the full one. I’ll stick with five for now.
“Is there a jet pack on this vehicle that I didn’t know about?” James asks.
“Don’t be sarcastic,” I muse. “It’s beneath you.” James looks at me in the rearview mirror, and I give him a dashing smile. “We’ll try to shoot the back tires out.”
“Please do.” He takes a hard left, and I fly into the door, smacking my head on the frame, as Brad flies into me.
“For fuck’s sake, James,” I yell, rubbing at my head. “My face is fucked up enough.”
“Sorry.”
“Perhaps tell us when you’re on a straight.”
“Okay.” A hard right, and we’re flying across the car again. Brad grunts on impact, and again when I land in his lap.
I shuffle up and get back on my side of the car, reaching for the handle above the door. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car chase before. You?”
“Yes,” James grunts. The sound of screeching tires rings, and the smell of rubber burning invades my nose.
“Of course you have.” I tighten my grip of the handle and tense my muscles, keeping myself on the right side of the car.
“Straight.”
“Great.” Brad sticks his head out of the window.
“But watch the bus.”
“Fuck!” He dips back inside, his hair wafting as the bus passes. The poor fuck looks like he’s been stunned, his wide eyes staring forward, and I howl with unstoppable laughter. “Any fucking buses?” he grates.