Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Then hey, there are at least two cars worse than it. Good to know.”
“I would’ve thought sainty Saint would want the best of the best.”
“That’s the old me. The new one believes mediocrity is best. It stops you from being disappointed.”
“Wow. That’s actually the most depressing thing you’ve said to me.”
I nudge him. “I’m fucking with you.” At least, I kind of am.
It’s not that I liked coming in last in the obstacle course, but not having the pressure of needing to come in first? It was liberating and nothing like how I felt while in the military.
We get the papers signed away, they run the credit check and approve a loan, and then they hand me the keys.
I hold them up to Iris. “Race you home? We can put that car chase theory to the test.”
“Not yet. We have one more stop before we go home.”
I groan. “More shopping?”
“Yes, but I think even you’ll like this kind of shopping. Follow me in your car?”
“Fine. Or you could text me the address so I can use Maps to find it.”
“Then you might google what it is, and that’s cheating. I want it to be a surprise.”
“It’s an adult toy store, isn’t it?”
He gasps. “How did you know?”
“Wild guess.”
“But also, you’re wrong. Though technically, I guess you could call what they sell toys?”
Okay, I’ll admit I’m intrigued.
I follow him closely, getting the feel of my new car. It’s nothing special—it’s a couple of years old, but it handles nicely, and it’ll do the job. Turns out it has a turbo engine too, so it has some power to it. Nothing like Iris’s V8, but this could get me out of a pickle. I don’t see why it would need to though when we use Trav’s cars on an actual job.
Iris pulls into a parking lot outside a warehouse with the word GUNS written in huge letters on the side of the building.
He’s right. I will like this kind of shopping.
We walk through the doors, and clearly Iris is a regular. The people who work here all wave to him as he goes by. He goes straight to the back where there’s a firing range, and he leans on the counter.
The guy behind the desk lights up at Iris’s arrival. “Hey, man. I haven’t seen you for a long time.”
“I know. Been kind of busy. Ricky, this is Saint. Saint, this is Ricky. Anything you want, he’ll hook you up. Speaking of which. Has my order come in yet?”
“It has. It came in yesterday, but I haven’t had the chance to test it yet before giving it to you.”
“Come on. I can test it when I get it home.”
Ricky gives him a derisive look.
“Fine. I’ll make sure Trav tests it before I use it.”
“That’s more like it. While you’re at it, get Trav to give me a call? We went out one time, and I haven’t heard from him since.”
“Yeah, he does that.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry.”
Ricky shrugs. “Eh. It was one date.” He turns and takes out a long box, putting it on the counter. “Now, I’ll hand it over on the proviso you actually take it to Trav. I’ll make sure Saint doesn’t let you get away with skipping that step.”
“You really think this guy has any pull over me?” Iris points his thumb in my direction.
“I know ways to persuade you,” I purr.
“Ooh, looks like you’ve met your match,” Ricky says. “Though does this mean you can no longer flirt with me to get things no one else can for you?”
“Aww, you’ll always be my number one, Ricky.”
I growl, like legit growl. It’s involuntary, and I cough to try to cover it, but Iris smiles my way.
“Hey, babe, look at this,” Iris says and pulls me closer. “Are you ready to be amazed?”
By the shape of the box, I assume it’s a rifle of some kind. Probably a full automatic that costs thousands of dollars.
“I’m ready to be amazed,” I say.
He lifts the lid, and inside …
I chuckle.
“Do not laugh at my baby.” Iris takes out the weapon.
“And what exactly are you going to do with that?”
“It’s my emergency RPG.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. Emergency rocket launcher. I carry mine around in my back pocket.”
“It would be so cool if they could make one that compact.” Iris turns to Ricky. “Is there a chance—”
“No, I’m not going to find you a pocket-sized RPG,” he says in a monotone voice.
“Are you sure? I could call it my pocket rocket.”
When neither of us responds to that, Iris gives up.
“Fine. Did you want to look at anything while we’re here?” he asks me.
“Actually, yeah. Do you guys carry the F88 Austeyr?”
Ricky’s gaze rakes over me. “Interesting choice in assault rifles. You should think about the FAL. It has more power.”
“The F88 is lighter and more compact. In the right hands, the F88 gets the job done.” I wink at him.