Page 46 of Coup De Grâce
“Hey!” Thumper shouted. “Watch it! My foot was there!”
“Get Sally under the floorboards.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah, I know your rules for touching Sally. There’s no fucking way I’m getting my hand chopped off.”
“Just fucking get her. She’s the only weapon I have.”
His eyes bugged out as he stared at me. “You didn’t bring another gun?”
“Call me crazy, but having the one was hard enough to conceal,” I bit out just as we were rammed from behind again.
Thumper sat up, spinning around in his seat and bending over to reach the floorboards in the back. With his ass in the air, the airy material from his dress started flapping in my face, making it impossible to see where I was going. Ripping it away from him, I accidentally tore too much and the upper half of the dress ripped, revealing nothing more than his deflated boob.
“Hey! Stop fucking ruining my things!”
“It was flapping in my face. I couldn’t see,” I snapped.
He twisted back around, sitting in his seat with a scowl. “I swear, men have no idea how fucking hard it is to be a woman.”
“Just get the rifle out,” I snapped.
I glanced in the rearview again just as we were slammed into again on the driver’s side. Glass shattered as something landed in my lap, and when I looked down, a calm took over that I hadn’t felt in way too fucking long.
Grabbing the grenade, I threw it back out the window just in time for it to explode as it hit the other vehicle. Chuckling, I glanced over at Thumper, grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t look too happy.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you tore my dress.”
“Stop being a fucking woman.”
He snorted. “You are so in trouble when Eva finds out you said that.”
“If she ever fucking talks to me again,” I muttered.
He loaded Sally and spun in his seat, holding Sally unsteadily in his arms.
“Watch what you?—”
Another fucking hit from behind sent him flying into the dash, but the rifle…I watched in horror as the rifle slipped from his grip and tumbled out the window, clattering along the road.
Slowly, he turned to me with a wince. “Oops.”
“Oops? You just fucking lost Sally!”
“Technically, Sally’s at home. That’s like…fake Sally.”
“You fucking lost my rifle! My only fucking form of defense!” I said, slamming my fist down on the steering wheel.
“Right, but if you weren’t driving like a lunatic, we would have been fine.”
My nostrils flared at the words coming out of his mouth. I would not kill him. I would not do it. He was here to help, even if he was making things ten times worse.
“Fucking unbelievable.”
“If it makes you feel any better, this body suit is really chafing.”
I glared at him, not finding that even remotely helpful, nor did it make me feel better.
