Page 217 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

I blink at her, overcome with emotion. “Thank you,” I murmur. “Thank you so much.”

“Go get your car, honey,” she smiles. “And then put that child to bed. He needs a bottle and a good night’s sleep.”

I give her a tearful nod then head off in the direction of the dealership. Every step hurts but I try to keep my chin held high, even when I desperately want to sit down and rest my legs. I’m also afraid of what’ll happen if I stop for even a moment.

What thoughts will catch up to me. What memories. What monsters.

I keep seeing Charity’s body in my mind’s eye. I keep seeing him standing over her. And every time, I want to throw up.

How could he?

How could he?

* * *

Ten minutes later, I find myself standing in front of the shop. It’s hardly the fanciest dealership I’ve ever seen, but I don’t need fancy. I just need functional.

Lowell turns out to be a handsome older man with dark, simmering eyes and an easy smile. “Didja say Roni sent you?” he asks.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“You been crying, girl?” he asks.

“It’s nothing.”

“You and your boy both, huh?”

I wipe the tears off Theo’s face. “We’re fine.”

“It’s okay,” he says, hands held up to calm me down. “You don’t gotta tell me the whole story. You just gotta tell me what you need.”

“A car,” I say firmly. “One that’ll get me out of Las Vegas.”

He nods. “And I’m guessing you’re looking for cheap, too?”

“If you have anything like that.”

“Lowell’s got everything, baby. Come on back.”

He walks me out into the open-air dealership. The floodlights overhead highlight every pockmark and rusted scar in the rows of cars we pass. I’d guess the average vehicle is older than me.

Lowell stops at the last line and gestures towards two cars in the back. “Got two choices. The blue one’s been through quite a few hands but she’s got a low mileage on her,” Lowell explains. “Marked at three thousand, but I’ll let it go for twenty-six hundred.”

“And the other one?”

“Hi Ho Silver over here. She’s been dinged up once or twice—haven’t we all?—but she runs just fine. And those little stains won’t bother you much.”

“Stains?” I ask.

“Old feller bled out in the back,” he replies bluntly. “Tell you what—I’ll let her go at two grand flat.”

I shudder. “I’ll take the blue.” I’ve had my fill of blood and violence. I don’t need a constant reminder of it on what is very likely going to be my bed for the foreseeable future.

I fork over the cash, trying not to think about how little I have left, and take the keys from Lowell.

“Best of luck, darling!” he says as he saunters off whistling. “Ride her ‘til the wheels fall off!”

“As if I have a choice,” I mutter to myself.

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