Page 5 of Stone Deep
She shrugged. “Some people might, but I was on a mission and you fucked it all up.”
“If your mission was to get pummeled by a guy who outweighed you by about a hundred pounds, then you almost succeeded. You were looking for the dude’s brother?”
“Yep.” She pulled her feet up, jammed her purple high-top sneakers onto the seat and hugged her knees to her chest. Her heels moved up and down nervously as if sitting still wasn’t an option.
“You’re a little wound up,” I said. “Are you high on something?”
She grunted at the insult and reached down into the console. She pulled out a big can of energy drink. It was empty.
“Ah yes, I guess a big can like that going into a petite person like you would cause some nervous energy.”
She squeezed her legs again. Her knees stuck out through the holes in her faded jeans. “I drank two.”
“Damn. Those little legs must be hollow.” My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it out of my pocket. “Hey, Cleveland,”
“Stone, what the hell? Where are you?”
“Uh, we’re heading down the highway right now. Don’t worry about me. I’ll hitch a ride back home or something.”
“Hell’s fucking fire, Stone, you are something else. Gotta say, you flew so fast across that barroom when they grabbed her, I didn’t even see you move.”
“Yep, that’s why they call me Bolt. I move like fucking lighting.”
“Who calls you that?” Cleveland asked.
“Well, no one yet, but I keep throwing it out there hoping it’ll stick. Listen, Cleve, I see the bikes are gaining on us, so I’ll see you Monday.”
A headlight flashed in the side view mirror. I leaned my head to the side to get a better look.
My caffeine pumped passenger wriggled in her seat. “I will probably have to pee soon.”
“Two cans? I’d say so. Hold on, Tink, our friends are back.”
She looked back over the seat. “God, what stubborn fucking buttheads. The damn gun wasn’t even real.”
I laughed. “Looked pretty fucking convincing clutched in those shaky fingers of yours.”
I sped up and dashed in front of a minivan that was moving along at a good clip in the fast lane. The three bikes pulled up next to us. The guy in front had a side view mirror that was dangling and flopping in the breeze like a chrome colored flag.
“Ha! I broke the jerk’s mirror.” My daring sidekick rolled down her window, stuck out her hand and raised her middle finger at the guy. She sat back and rolled up the window. “Damn, it’s cold out there. I’ve got a motel room off the Tatter Lane exit. You can take me there.”
“I’ve got to lose these guys first. Otherwise, all we did was postpone the fight.” I headed to the next exit.
She looked over at me. “But the motel is still a few miles ahead.”
“Yeah, I know. But there is a sweetly curved stretch of coastal highway off this exit, and I want to see how thisbaby handles.”
“Seriously? We’re taking a detour so you can play race car driver?”
“Race car driver? I like the sound of that.”
She glanced back. “They are following us.”
I pushed in the clutch and shoved it into fourth. “Then, my pretty little accomplice, I guess it’s a good thing I have a plan.”
FOUR
BRITTON
