Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
An unhappy snarl is all that leaves my pouty other half.
“Call again if you boys need anything else.”
Warm sentiments are exchanged prior to Garcia hitting the end button and sighing, “At least we can count no punctured lung as a win, right?”
“You being here when you were to save his life was a fucking win too, Garcia,” I express at the same time I give the back of Kid’s neck a soothing stroke to prevent his temper from flaring a second time.
“That shit was just crazy luck.”
“That shit was just the Car Gods doin’ what they do best,” offers the man enjoying my touch. “Deployin’ safety measures when we need them the most.”
Confusion twitches itself on Garcia’s face, leaving me room to interrogate, “Again, fuckin’ grateful that you’re here…that you got here…but what the fuck brought you here in the first place?”
“Zero.” He carefully places down the makeshift tool on the table. “He was worried about his car and this weather, and I offered to bring it by the shop for you guys to look it over – thinking I had more time to get in and out before the storm hit – but clearly, I didn’t.”
“Yeah,” leaves me on an amused hum. “That’s just fucking crazy luck.”
“Car Gods, man,” insists Kid between winces. “They’re watching out for us.”
“Just not Rabbit?” makes it to the very tip of my tongue, only severed courtesy of the subtle headshake provided by Garcia who can hear the words despite them not physically escaping.
I get it.
I fucking get it.
What good does cursing the shit bringing him comfort do other than return him to his previous revved up state?
What good would putting him back there serve?
It doesn’t help us find Rabbit.
Fuck, it actually makes the shit ten times more difficult, because instead of devoting my attention, my focus, all my goddamn energy to her rescue – their rescue – I’d be shittily splitting it.
And I can’t afford to do that.
We can’t afford for me to do that.
“Let’s get you over to the couch,” I command to Kid as I help him to his feet. “Ice and pills next.”
“We need to be looking for Bunny,” he argues while winding an arm around me. “I told you. I’m fine.”
“And my ass is gonna keep it that way by gettin’ you some ice and pills.”
“Nolan-”
“Kipp,” the bite is forceful and felt, “enough.”
Like the petulant child he becomes when he doesn’t get his way, he attempts to pull back, prompting me to hold on tighter.
Tug him closer.
Wordlessly indicate that this isn’t a debate.
He’s getting taken care of.
End of the road.
Full circuit.
“I’ll grab the med stuff,” Garcia announces, body moving to retrieve it. “Ace, what can you tell us about Bunny’s abduction?”
“Not a lot.” Our slow, sluggish movements continue. “I got over to Posie’s place with Post before she even had a chance to call us.”
“Posie’s okay?” Kid immediately asks, hope swarming in his stare as much as his tone.
“Bit shook up ‘cause this is her first kidnappin’ experience outside of Netflix,” the corner of my lip kicks upward, “other than that, she’s alright. No harm physically done.”
“That’s relatively good news,” Kid sighs upon the gentle lowering of his frame to the couch.
“Post insisted he’d drive her home. Go over her statement there. Keep us updated.”
“Did she hear anything? See anyone?” Garcia prods during his item collecting. “Was there anything left at the scene that could be considered useful?”
“There was a struggle in the bathroom-”
“Our girl put up a fight?!”
“Of course she did.” I inform after pointing a stern finger at my fiancé to stay put. “Have you ever known her not to?”
The comment receives a slight chuckle.
“Don’t laugh. You’re the same.”
This time it’s Garcia who snickers.
“The only item left behind was her engagement ring, which was discarded in the sink like an extra fuck you to us. As far as evidence regarding where she was taken? There wasn’t any. And as for the how they escaped with her…a woman – Cunt de Vil – was in the store earlier in the day complainin’ about a smell and forced Posie to prop the back door open for fresh air. Post said it looked like somethin’ small had been wedged between the door and the frame to keep the shit from completely closin’, givin’ them an easy in and out whenever the opportunity came.”
“Civilian posed recon, prep, distract, and attack.” Garcia offers the contents in his grip to the frowning mechanic in front of us. “Add that to the communication devices, exit strategy, as well as the capture failsafe devised, and you can guarantee they’re not your basic soldiers of fortune.”
Post dry swallowing the pills, Kid grumps, “So?”
“So,” his icepack dangling is denied, “Zero can do something with that information. Sure, they may encrypt their communication or idiotically believe their whereabouts or wheretos can’t be traced; however, it can. Especially when there’s money involved. There’s very little in the world that Zero can’t trace.”