Read Online Wuthering Frights by H.P. Mallory - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: H.P. Mallory
Tags: Dulcie O'Neil#4
Ads: Link
be found out in a second."
"She's right," Quill said as he viewed the room, as if to ensure that everyone assembled understood that this wasn't a good idea. "Vander's the only one with access. It would be too suspicious."
I stood up, after deciding I'd had enough. "So one a.m. tonight, Alice the tanker ship on the west end loading docks. Anything else?"
Baron glared at me as if he were annoyed that I was done with our little rendezvous since he hadn't announced "meeting adjourned." When he didn't say anything else, I pushed my chair out from underneath the table and started for the door, Quillan right behind me. "See you in three hours," I said.
"This is your night ta prove yourself, O'Neil," Baron called out to my exiting figure. I paused with my hand on the doorknob.
I turned around to face him and smiled assuredly. "It's in my back pocket, asshole," I said with as much disdain as I could muster before showing myself out.
"Watch it, Dulce," Quill said and sighed heavily.
I glanced up at him, unfazed. "What? He is an asshole."
"You know his temper."
"Yeah and now he can get well acquainted with mine."
Once freed from the confines of Ink, I approached my Suzuki quickly, and noticed an electric blue sports car, complete with black stripes on either side, parked beside it. Quillan beeped it unlocked and I glanced over at him as I wrestled with my helmet.
"Are you okay?" Quill asked as he faced me with concern in his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was referring to my emotional sanity or my close encounter with Baron. Maybe both.
"I'm fine," I answered tersely, "I just want to go home." I turned the key in the ignition only to hear it click a few times. I turned the key again and nothing. The engine was dead. "Son of a fucking bitch!" I yelled and slammed my palm against the tank. Quillan walked over and took the key from me and motioning me aside, straddled the bike as he inspected it and attempted to start it himself.
"It's dead," he announced, standing up and eyeing me sadly. "I think it's the starter."
"You've gotta be kidding," I grumbled and shook my head like I couldn't believe it. Talk about shitty timing!
"I'll take you home," Quillan said as I tore off my helmet and felt like I wanted to cry.
"What am I going to do with this?" I asked, meaning that I didn't want to be tied to Ink in any way, shape or form; and everyone at the ANC knew what I drove. It wasn't any stretch of the imagination at all to think that Knight, Trey or anyone else from the ANC might happen to do a drive-by to make sure Baron was on the up and up. Seeing my motorcycle in the parking lot was not a good thing.
"The bike is done, Dulce," Quillan said in a grounded tone, as if he were afraid I was super attached to it or something. "Baron has guys who can strip it and sell the parts. I'll let him know on the way to your house."
I nodded and approached Quillan's car, scanning it quizzically. "Is this a Mustang?" I asked, finding some of the lines fairly reminiscent of the iconic Ford.
"2013 Shelby GT 500," he answered with obvious pride.
I gave him a raised brow as I opened the door and seated myself. "Mustang?" I asked again once he was within earshot.
He chuckled and helped himself into the driver's seat. "Mustang," he answered.
I secured my seatbelt and then sighed. "I guess it beats a 1961 Galaxy Town Victoria."
###
I walked in my front door at a little past ten p.m. Locking it behind me, I immediately noticed my answering machine blinking red. From the looks of it, I had two messages. I checked my cell phone lying beside it and lifting it up, saw that it also had messages. Probably Sam and Dia wondering what in the hell had happened to me while I'd been in the Netherworld. Even though I knew I needed to face them at some point, I just couldn't bring myself to do it now. Not after the crappy evening I'd just endured. But what was even scarier was that there was something inside me that wanted to sever all ties to my old
"She's right," Quill said as he viewed the room, as if to ensure that everyone assembled understood that this wasn't a good idea. "Vander's the only one with access. It would be too suspicious."
I stood up, after deciding I'd had enough. "So one a.m. tonight, Alice the tanker ship on the west end loading docks. Anything else?"
Baron glared at me as if he were annoyed that I was done with our little rendezvous since he hadn't announced "meeting adjourned." When he didn't say anything else, I pushed my chair out from underneath the table and started for the door, Quillan right behind me. "See you in three hours," I said.
"This is your night ta prove yourself, O'Neil," Baron called out to my exiting figure. I paused with my hand on the doorknob.
I turned around to face him and smiled assuredly. "It's in my back pocket, asshole," I said with as much disdain as I could muster before showing myself out.
"Watch it, Dulce," Quill said and sighed heavily.
I glanced up at him, unfazed. "What? He is an asshole."
"You know his temper."
"Yeah and now he can get well acquainted with mine."
Once freed from the confines of Ink, I approached my Suzuki quickly, and noticed an electric blue sports car, complete with black stripes on either side, parked beside it. Quillan beeped it unlocked and I glanced over at him as I wrestled with my helmet.
"Are you okay?" Quill asked as he faced me with concern in his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was referring to my emotional sanity or my close encounter with Baron. Maybe both.
"I'm fine," I answered tersely, "I just want to go home." I turned the key in the ignition only to hear it click a few times. I turned the key again and nothing. The engine was dead. "Son of a fucking bitch!" I yelled and slammed my palm against the tank. Quillan walked over and took the key from me and motioning me aside, straddled the bike as he inspected it and attempted to start it himself.
"It's dead," he announced, standing up and eyeing me sadly. "I think it's the starter."
"You've gotta be kidding," I grumbled and shook my head like I couldn't believe it. Talk about shitty timing!
"I'll take you home," Quillan said as I tore off my helmet and felt like I wanted to cry.
"What am I going to do with this?" I asked, meaning that I didn't want to be tied to Ink in any way, shape or form; and everyone at the ANC knew what I drove. It wasn't any stretch of the imagination at all to think that Knight, Trey or anyone else from the ANC might happen to do a drive-by to make sure Baron was on the up and up. Seeing my motorcycle in the parking lot was not a good thing.
"The bike is done, Dulce," Quillan said in a grounded tone, as if he were afraid I was super attached to it or something. "Baron has guys who can strip it and sell the parts. I'll let him know on the way to your house."
I nodded and approached Quillan's car, scanning it quizzically. "Is this a Mustang?" I asked, finding some of the lines fairly reminiscent of the iconic Ford.
"2013 Shelby GT 500," he answered with obvious pride.
I gave him a raised brow as I opened the door and seated myself. "Mustang?" I asked again once he was within earshot.
He chuckled and helped himself into the driver's seat. "Mustang," he answered.
I secured my seatbelt and then sighed. "I guess it beats a 1961 Galaxy Town Victoria."
###
I walked in my front door at a little past ten p.m. Locking it behind me, I immediately noticed my answering machine blinking red. From the looks of it, I had two messages. I checked my cell phone lying beside it and lifting it up, saw that it also had messages. Probably Sam and Dia wondering what in the hell had happened to me while I'd been in the Netherworld. Even though I knew I needed to face them at some point, I just couldn't bring myself to do it now. Not after the crappy evening I'd just endured. But what was even scarier was that there was something inside me that wanted to sever all ties to my old
Similar Books
![Carter's Tryck [Brac Pack 17]](https://fs.dianahicksbooks.com/474078/thumbs/152x264/carters-tryck-brac-pack-17.jpg)
