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“You wanna see if our friend here has any liquor in that junk heap?” I asked, nodding to the trailer.
Without a word, she disappeared inside the trailer and returned a few minutes later with three bottles and some old rags. The asshole in my hold had worked himself up so much, I think he was foaming at the mouth.
Greta held up the bottles and rags. “I figuredthiswas what you had in mind?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Damn right.
“Let me go,” the guy kept hollering. “Just take whatever you want.”
Greta walked up to him, and when she was close enough the guy could feel her breath on his cheek, he shut up.
“I heard you make your money getting little kids hooked on coke,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s a shitty thing to do,amico.I’ve got this nephew…” She shrugged. “I’m just trying to protect his future.”
She took a few steps back and got the bottles ready, shoving the rags down deep enough into the necks to saturate them.
Finally, it dawned on the guy what she was doing.
“No, wait. Fuck, don’t do that. My whole supply—”
“—is about to go up in flames, my friend,” I said, putting a little more pressure on his shoulder joint for good measure. “No sense in trying to fight it.”
“He’s got enough coke on the table in there to hook a school,” Greta said as she shoved a rag into the last bottle. “And some pretty creepy pictures of kids on a playground,”
She held out one of the bottles to me, but I shook my head and tossed her my lighter.
“Ladies first,” I said, motioning to the trailer with my free hand.
“No, please. I can pay you. Stop,” the guy pleaded.
Too late, though. Greta lit the rag, let it catch, then cocked back and let the bottle fly, sending it crashing through the open doorway.
I could see the bottle as it smashed onto the floor, sending its flames out along the shitty carpet.
She lit the next one, handed it to me, and I chucked it through the grimy window at the front of the trailer.
She sent the last one sailing through the window at the opposite end, and that was it. Flames leaped and danced inside. It wouldn’t be long before the whole damn trailer was lit up like a bonfire.
“Consider this a warning,” I said, shoving the guy forward into the long, damp grass. It had rained recently; there was little risk of the fire spreading and getting out of hand. “If we have to come back, it’ll be your worthless ass I set on fire.”
Greta practically skipped—fuckingskipped—back to the bikes and threw on her helmet, grinning from ear-to-ear. Her eyes were still alight, and I could almost feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
“I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun,” she said as she swung her leg over her bike.
I shrugged. “You’ve got to let loose and enjoy the little things every once in a while. It’s the only way to stay sane in this world.”
She laughed. “You’regiving me advice on how to stay sane? Really?”
I chuckled as I got on my bike. “It’s good advice. Just imagine the crazy shit I’d do if I didn’t let off steam every now and then.”
She shivered exaggeratedly. “That’s just plain scary,” she said, trying for a straight face but failing miserably.
Rather than responding, I started up the bike and zipped off the shoulder, racing her back to the motel. And god damn, the girl kept up. Impressive. Very fucking impressive.
The prospects were still standing on either side of the truck as we parked back in the lot. I had no doubt their eyes hadn’t left it once.
“Think you can sleep now, darling?” I asked as we crossed the lot and stopped in front of the door to her room.
“Sleep? Seriously?” she asked.
