Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Ugh. I shrink back as my earlier words are quoted back to me. The fact that Warrick is here, ready to save the day after he probably drove the fastest car he owned at a speed that would have cost him his license if he was pulled over, and looks fabulous doing all of it does not for a single second mitigate my anger that all of this is even happening.
Still, he does have the world’s best timing. Whether that car is a rental and he flew here or drove here, or however he got our address and whichever he tried first, he ended up here at exactly the right time.
I refuse to think the universe is trying to tell me something. Very rarely, things just work out.
“I’ll wire you the money. Let me know how much and where to send it,” Warrick says matter-of-factly as he produces his phone.
“What the hell? I want my piece of—”
“Fair enough,” Thug Leader cuts off Violence Craver Thug. “We’re here to collect forty-two thousand eight hundred and fourteen dollars.”
“I’ll make it an even forty-three thousand. Give me the info, and I’ll have the confirmation number for you in a minute.”
Knuckle Cracker Thug, formerly Thug Three, cracks his knuckles. Again. “Or, maybe we’ll just take your car for our trouble. Collateral and all that.”
“What the fuck, Steve? Give it a break,” Leader Thug warns.
“Real names, asshole! I’m Red.”
Leader Thug sighs. “Okay, Red, he’s paying us. Settle down.”
“I like that car. It might be green, and I’m Red, but Red doesn’t discriminate. Let’s just take it for a joyride, shall we, boys? She looks like she can really rip.” He tries to lunge for the keys, but Warrick’s hand with the phone shoots out, punching him straight in the throat.
Red or Steve or whatever rolls on the ground, gurgling and gasping for air.
Warrick steps back, his face perfectly neutral. He just executed the most badass throat slammer, and he didn’t even release his phone or break his composure. He almost looks bored.
The other two take two steps back.
“I’ll compensate you for that,” Warrick sighs. “I’ll add another two thousand for your trouble.”
Nate Thug helps Red, and Leader Thug gives Warrick the info for the transfer. He types it out quickly, and once it’s complete and the transfer is made, the three skulk away, Red still groaning and gulping for air. He limps between the other two over to a white van parked across the street. It really can only be described as a candy van. These guys are for sure candy hander outers on November first.
“Ooh! He’s muscly, nice, smart, and rich.” Granny grasps my arm and doesn’t even attempt to whisper. “I like him.” She gets to direct her next question to Warrick himself as he walks right up to the open door. The four of us take a collective breath, but Granny breaks first. “Who are you, anyway? I told those thugs not today, Satan, but I might change my mind. I’d take all the today where you’re involved.”
“Granny!” I whisper-scream under my breath. “I’m going to have a heart attack and an aneurysm if you don’t stop.”
I can just imagine myself hooing like Booty Sue with wide eyes over Granny’s behavior.
She fits her dentures back into her mouth. God, they must be dry after hanging out in midair all this time. “I missed meatloaf night for this. They were baking it into the shape of a giant elephant. I should get to have some fun.” She thrusts her cane out in the direction of the car. “Can I have a ride in that contraption?”
Warrick’s stoic composure doesn’t crack. “Certainly.”
“You’re not going to throat punch me too?”
“Mother!” Dad grunts.
“No!” I yelp at the same time.
“So, who are you, mystery meat? I mean man.” Her eyes sweep over him. “Well, maybe I mean meat.”
“This is…this, uh, he’s Reginald’s father,” I stammer.
“Mmm.” Granny mulls that over. “Straight from the frying pan into the fire! Well, I don’t blame you. Not with an—”
“Granny!” I need to get her into the house before this gets any worse, but all of us just keep standing here, frozen from the whole terrible scene that just played out. Things like this happen in movies, not in real life. It’s utterly horrifying.
At least for the four of us, counting Booty Sue, who is still hooing and whimpering at my dad’s side. Granny seems to be the least affected.
“Well, he did save us. Maybe you should go on one date with him, just to be nice.”
“He hasn’t asked me out,” I grumble.
Also? Hell would have to freeze over repeatedly for that to happen. I’m not a dad fucker. I’m also never going to say those words out loud. It seems a little like tempting fate, and I don’t swear in front of my granny. No matter how I phrase that, it’s a swear.