Page 28 of Something Tattered
His voice hardened. "Too many."
I shoved a nervous hand through my hair. Desperately, I tried to look on the bright side. The whole stolen-car-with-guns-in-the-trunk thing had completely taken my mind off the missing seatbelt.
I closed my eyes and tried to envision a glass half full. It was a total waste. I didn’t even see the glass. Instead, I saw the painter getting dragged off to jail, with me calling out after him,"Thanks for the ride, Painter Guy!"
Right on the heels ofthisthought came another. What if I was arrested with him?
The guy's voice, sounding vaguely amused, broke through my thoughts. "Don't worry. They're legal. Collector's items mostly."
Obviously, he meant the guns. I asked, "But why doyouhave them?"
He shrugged. "Because I took them."
"Why?"
"Because he had it coming." The painter gave me a sideways glance. "It's complicated."
Oh, I had no doubt of that. I glanced around. Maybe Ishould'vegone for the ditch. Or Chester.
Heaven help me.
As if reading my mind, the painter said, "You don't need to worry. It's fine."
I gave a bark of laughter. "You mean except for the fact that we're surrounded by stolen goods?"
He hesitated. "Yeah. Except for that."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, that's a relief."
"Trust me," he said. "It's not a big deal."
"Maybe not toyou."
Oh sure, he could look calm and collected. As for me, I was a mess.
I had no idea what was going on. But Ididknow we were both too pretty for prison. Yes, I realized that I wasn'tquiteas pretty as he was, but I was definitely a whole lot wimpier.
From the driver's seat, he said, "Relax. I'll have you home in five minutes."
But I couldn't relax. My mind was still churning. I'd need a girlfriend. Atoughgirlfriend. But I didn'twantto be anyone's prison bitch. For one thing, I liked guys.
I was still panicking when his words finally sunk in.Home– he was planning to take me to my house.
Oh, crap.I hadn't mentioned it, but I'd been planning to have him drop me offnotat my house, but instead, five miles further, at T.J.'s., where everyone was waiting.
But there was no way on Earth I could ask him that now. The added distance aside, T.J.'s was located in the center of town, right next to the city's only police station.
I tried to think.What now?Assuming I made it home safely – thus, avoiding a life of shower-shanking and muff-licking, how was I supposed to get to the party?
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t blow it off. People were waiting. And they'd been waiting far too long already.
Feeling incredibly overwhelmed, I sank down in my seat.
I was the worst birthday girl, ever.
As we sped through the darkness, I kept reminding myself that things could always get worse, which oddly enough they did, just a few minutes later, when we pulled into the long driveway that led to my house.
As it turned out, I was being robbed.
