Read Online Cocked: A Stepbrother Romance by B. B. Hamel - Free Book Online

car.”
    I looked around the parking lot. “Plenty of cars around here.”
    “Camden.”
    “It’s okay,” I said, grinning. I felt excited for the first time in a long time as Lacey stared at me. I took her body in, running my eyes up and down her figure, and then reached into the duffel to pull out a small stack of cash.
    “We’ll pay for whatever we take,” I said, laughing loudly.

Chapter Seven: Lacey
     

     
    I ’d never seen someone steal a car before.
    Camden made quick work of it though as my heart hammered in my chest. It wasn’t the worst thing that was happening at the moment, I figured, but it was definitely pretty bad.
    “We’re stranding someone else here,” I said to him as he popped open the lock with a long black tool slipped between the window and the doorframe.
    “I’m aware of that.”
    “And that’s okay?”
    He looked at me and shook his head, not responding. He climbed into the front seat and began to take off the bottom panel near the ignition.
    “Seriously, Camden, after everything today, we’re just stealing a car?”
    “We’re in a hurry,” he said, concentrating on his task. “Now stop talking and make sure nobody is coming.”
    I scowled at him for a second. I had to admit, it was pretty impressive how quickly he got the door open and was inside. He looked competent and serious as he began to fiddle with some wires, a screwdriver-like tool shoved into the ignition.
    But he was stealing a car. Even back in the day, when I knew he was trouble, he kept that part of him away from me. At least, he didn’t let me see it directly. I was a good person, or at least I always thought I was. I’d never stolen anything in my entire life, let alone some crappy sedan from the parking lot of a rest stop. Even though I knew we needed it, knew that not getting a car could mean something way worse than whatever was going to happen to the owner of the car, I still felt bad.
    “Fuck yeah,” he said as the engine suddenly turned over and the car came to life.
    I looked in at him. “Proud of yourself?”
    “Always.”
    “You shouldn’t be.”
    “Whoever owns this car isn’t being chased by violent criminals.” He grinned at me. “Hurry up and get in. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
    I walked around to the passenger side and climbed in with a huff. I watched as he put his tools back into the duffle and began to count out the bills, all of them hundreds. He rolled them into a tight ball and wrapped a rubber band around their bulk.
    “What are you doing?” I asked.
    “Like I said, paying for it.”
    He reached out of the car and dropped the wad of bills on the ground.
    “How do you know the real owner of this car is going to get that money?”
    “I don’t. But the universe tends to right itself sometimes.”
    “That’s crazy.”
    He shrugged, putting the car into gear. “We picked a car parked relatively far away from the others on the opposite side of the building. I’m guessing that the person who owns this car also works here and that this spot doesn’t get much traffic. I’m confident he’ll find it.”
    “This is insane,” I mumbled for the hundredth time that hour as Camden laughed and pulled out into traffic.
    We were back on the road, keeping up with traffic but not driving too fast, heading west toward the coast. I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat, pointedly not talking to Camden.
    My mind drifted as the sun set and the miles added up. I thought about my Dad and Lynn, about what they had seen that upset them so much. I knew Camden had killed someone, but I hadn’t actually witnessed it. The idea of Camden shooting a Mexican gangster was so absurd and fake that I really wasn’t treating it like it had happened.
    But it was real, it was all real. I’d been convinced of that, as much as I hated it. We were in the thick of something that I didn’t understand, all because of him, that cocky bastard.
    For some reason, as we hit the third hour of our