Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
"You said you don't think they're planning to kill us. So what? You plan to do it yourself?"
"What?" I snap, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight my fingers ache.
"You took that corner back there on two fucking wheels, Zayne. Maybe slow it down a little?"
I chance a glance in his direction, and although he sounds unimpressed with my driving, there's no anger on his handsome face.
"Sorry," I mutter. "Just a little anxious, I guess."
I don't bother to explain that my anxiety has everything to do with him and the way we kissed last night, and the way his eyes raked over my body while I was getting dressed, and nothing to do with the meeting we're about to attend.
"We'll be fine," he says, his warm palm pressing against my thigh for the briefest of seconds. I manage to hold back the whimper of need when he pulls it away.
The rest of the drive is silent, other than Zeus telling me which turns to take because he knows the area better than I do.
All too soon, but with only minutes of our meeting time to spare, we pull up outside of a massive tin fence.
A small sign, warning us that the wrecking yard is not accessible to the public and is open by appointment only, is the only hint of where we are.
"I've driven past this place numerous times," he mutters, leaning forward as if getting closer to the windshield would allow him to see over the fence.
"Think they're chopping cars here?" I ask.
"At a minimum," he mutters. "I should've fucking put two and two together."
I follow the point of his finger, reading a sign that I missed with my initial inspection of the place.
"Liberty Pick and Pull," Zeus says, knowing that Casper is either listening right now or will review the audio later.
I pull in a deep breath, feeling a little calmer knowing that at least Cerberus will know where to come look for us if we go too long without reporting in.
"They probably have an inventory list online," I say. "Might be wise to check against stolen vehicles in a hundred-mile radius."
Another hint for Casper, although the man is smart enough that he's probably already researching the business.
"Look at this motherfucker," Zeus whispers, dipping his head in the direction of the guy walking toward us. "Surprised he's not carrying a fucking banjo."
"He only pulls that out on special occasions," I mutter, both of us chuckling.
It eases some of the tension, but not enough that my muscles loosen as I manually roll down the window.
I open my mouth to speak, but the guy cuts me off. "IDs?"
I lean closer to him, pulling my wallet out of my back right pocket as Zeus does the same.
"Someone expecting you?" the guy asks as he takes the identification.
"Yep."
He dips his head, not asking who is expecting us as he hands the fake driver's licenses back to me.
I pass Zeus his before sliding mine back into my wallet.
"You'll go in and to the left. To the building with the crown on the wall," he says before stepping away and disappearing into the small door in the tin wall.
Seconds later, the massive gate pulls open, and surprisingly, the place actually looks like a wrecking yard, with old, rusted cars parked in layers stacked four or five high. It makes it impossible to see what's on the other side.
"Reminds me of that movie, 13 Ghosts," Zeus mutters.
"Well, hopefully there aren't any fucking ghosts around to kill us."
The appearance of a wrecking yard fades as I drive through the two stacks of cars, revealing small bungalow-type housing and other bigger buildings.
"Might be advantageous to get a drone out here," I say.
"They'd probably shoot the motherfucker down," he responds.
Men carrying assault rifles walk around, patrolling as if they're prepared for World War III, and I know from experience with places like this that they're around to both keep people in and keep people out in equal measure.
"Over there," Zeus says, pointing to the big building with the crown painted on the wall.
"Not the biggest compound I've been to, but it's up there," I mutter as I park in front of the building. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he says, eyes locked on the front door.
Unsurprisingly, the buildings don't have windows, but the excessive number of cameras, visibly mounted everywhere, means the people with access know exactly what is going on around them.
I take a look around, both because it's expected of anyone in a new place and because I want to get the lay of the land. The roads, if you even want to call them that, are all lined with old cars stacked up. I know they use them both for protection and to obscure the line of sight of anyone who isn't supposed to be here.