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All it took was a little pushing and wiggling, and the fuel door popped open. “Bingo,” I said under my breath, and quickly unscrewed the fuel cap underneath.
Then I lifted one of the water jugs, held the narrow mouth to the opening, and poured the entire two gallons into the tank.
The sickly smell of the gasoline the water was sloshing around with prickled into my nostrils. Wrinkling my nose, I closed everything up and hurried on to the next vehicle.
The van’s fuel door snapped open even more easily than the previous car. Another two gallons of water gurgled into its tank, then I was moving on to a junky-looking sports car, and finally one of the pickup trucks.
Every last one of their vehicles was going to be fucked. If they figured out what the problem was early on, they might be able to avoid most of the damage, but I was betting the bozos weren’t quite smart enough for that.
I was just emptying the last dribbles of water into the truck’s gas tank when the hinges squeaked on the storage building door—now less than twenty feet away from where I was crouched.
With a hitch of my pulse, I ducked down even farther. A voice called out as if to someone still in the building.
“Yeah, I’ll be back in the morning. Can’t leave her hanging too long, if you know what I mean.”
The leering bravado in the asshole’s voice set my teeth on edge. But what if he headed this way?
As quickly as I could, I twisted the fuel cap back on and eased the fuel door shut over it. Footsteps rasped across the asphalt.
They were heading in my direction. Shit.
I curled my fingers around the handles of the now light-as-air jugs and backed away from the truck toward the sports car, staying low to the ground. The last few steps, I dashed.
Dropping down behind the trunk of the sports car, I sucked in a breath and peeked the way I’d come. The man who’d come out of the storage building looked like he was heading around the hood of the truck rather than stopping to take it.
Fucking hell. I glanced around, judging the distance to the van and then to the road beyond.
The prick started whistling, and I took that as my cue to keep moving.
Setting my sneakers quietly on the pavement, I fled for the shelter of the van. I’d just flung myself around its rear end when the whistling stopped.
“Hey, is someone out here?”
I clamped my lips tight—and nearly choked when a large form emerged from the shadows next to me.
It was only Rafael, frowning with concern. He beckoned to me, and we both took off for the streets of the town now within reach.
We stayed low and kept the van between us and the goon. I didn’t look back until we’d hurtled several steps down one of the town’s streets past a couple of quaint houses.
I probably should have hustled on back all the way home. But I couldn’t resist peeking back to watch the first results of our handiwork.
It didn’t look like the wannabe gangster had worried too much about whatever he’d thought he’d seen or heard. He was whistling again, the sound cut off a second later by the thud of a car door closing.
As he revved the ignition, I braced myself. The engine rumbled.
Then came a sputter. A hacking like the engine was coughing its lungs up.
The guy shut it off and twisted the key again, and you’d have thought that poor car had come down with tuberculosis.
Delight dancing in my chest, I turned to Rafael and nodded that we should go. A grin plastered itself to my face the whole way back to the bungalow.
I’d wreaked my little bit of havoc. Let’s see how tough these douchebags would actually be when push came to shove.
TEN
Luciana
“If you could avoid kneeingme in the nose, that would be appreciated.”
