“Where’s your back door?” I asked the salesperson, ignoring him.
The woman shook her head. “Customers are not allowed—” she stopped midsentence, her eyes wide.
I looked over to see that Juvie had turned around and pulled up his shirt, flashing the gun he kept there. Wordlessly, the lady pointed. We followed the direction of her finger, barreling out the back door. I quickly scanned both ends of the alley but sighted no one except Mikhail and Vlad.
“Stay here,” I ordered them before Juvie and I re-entered the jewelry store.
The clerk gasped audibly as we jogged through. Juvie was on my heels as I exited the front door, my eyes already sweeping up and down the street. I spotted her opening the door of a little BMW SUV. Her head jerked as I called her name. Our eyes met, and I shook my head once. For a second, she froze, staring at me. Then she scrambled into the truck.
“Shit,” I cursed, then took my first step off the curb and into the street.
“Targen, don’t do that shit,” Juvie yelled.
But I was beyond listening. The impatient sounds of horns and voices didn’t fully penetrate the layers of anger and determination surrounding me. I moved into the middle of the right lane just as the BMW approached. The screech of tires, the stream of curses, the traffic at standstill…
None of it mattered. All that did was getting to her. The driver let down his window, his face screwed into a mug. But something about my appearance had him raising it again. I kept a hand on the truck as I walked along it, daring him to move. Theory’s door was locked, of course. I peered through the window, watching her as she stubbornly faced front.
“Open the door, Theory,” I demanded.
She stayed still, refusing to acknowledge me.
“I’m not playing with you, girl. Open this door.”
This time, she looked at me, nose turned up and shook her head. Laughing softly, I nodded.
“A’ight. Bet, shorty.”
I banged on the driver’s window. “Open her door.”
“Please don’t open the door,” I heard her say. “Look, I have money –”
I rapped on his window again, interrupting her. “I got more. And if you don’t want me to tear this shit off the fucking hinges, open it,” I said.
I smiled at the sound of the locks disengaging. Snatching the back door open, I climbed in.
“Weak ass. You folded quicker than a washcloth,” Theory berated the driver. “What if he’s a killer?”
He shot her a guilty look, but that shit faded as I passed him a few bills.
“Park as close as you can,” I said.
She scoffed. “He might as well keep driving, cuz I’m not marrying you.”
I ignored her words, waiting until the driver had done as I instructed.
“Give me the keys and get out,” I told him.
His eyes met mine in the rear view. “Wh-what?” he stammered.
“Get. The fuck. Out.” My voice was low, precise. He’d better catch a hint real quick.
“B-b-but m-my car. I need?—”
His protests stopped at the telltale feel of metal pressed against the back of his head.
“Whatever it is, I bet you need your brain in one piece more.”
He gobbled some kind of plea before tossing the key fob onto the passenger seat and almost falling out of the car. I watchedas he stepped onto the curb and disappeared into the lazy flow of window shoppers. Finally, I turned to deal with my reluctant fiancée.
