Guns: The Spencer Book
Page 2
She points at Ford and me and we zip it.
“Rook,” Ronin says calmly. “I told you, we’ll go get it tomorrow when I’m free. Today I have to go down to Denver and work with Antoine on something. In fact”—he looks down at his watch—“I’m late. I gotta go.”
“Ronin, do I look helpless? I can get the bike myself. Besides”—she stops to look over at Ford—“Ashleigh said she’d come help.”
Ford is shaking his head no before Rook even finishes her sentence. “No, Ashleigh never mentioned that to me.”
“Ashleigh doesn’t tell you everything, Ford.”
He laughs. “I’m pretty sure she does.”
Rook smirks and we all start to squirm. “You’d be wrong. I have coffee with her every day now. I know her secrets.”
I chance a glance over at Ford and he’s thinking hard about this. I smirk a little at his discomfort.
“And you,” Rook says, pointing to me. “You think you know Veronica? Well, you don’t. Now hand over the keys or I will call a taxi, go down to the nearest dealership, and buy myself a f**king truck. Hell, maybe I’ll buy myself a motorcycle instead. And ride it home.”
She stomps her foot again, only this time we’re not amused. We’re all scratching our chins.
And then we all remember there’s a f**king camera crew here. Damn.
“OK.” I grab Ronin by the arm. “Give her the keys. She’s being taped today, so she can’t get into any trouble with the camera crew with her.” I stop and the three of us look at each other. “Right?”
Rook beams a triumphant smile and Ronin waves her through the door to go tell the garage guys to let her take the truck.
I wait until they are halfway down the aisle before I walk over and close the door again. Ford and I turn to Carson and he’s smiling. He likes the fact that Rook won and we lost.
“Carson, look,” Ford says. “You can be in the Club if you keep an eye on Ashleigh too. In fact, I think you should just come clean and tell these girls you’re g*y. You can be the g*y best friend. Do their makeup and hair, paint their toenails, whatever it is that g*y best friends do with girls.”
“I’m not g*y,” Carson starts.
But Ford is not even listening. He’s talking to me now. “If he keeps an eye on Ash and watches Fight Club, he’s in.” And then he pulls the door open and walks out.
I turn to Carson. “I’m not g*y,” he repeats.
“Carson, do you want in the Club or not? Just pretend, dude. You get to hang out with pretty girls, what’s wrong with that?”
He glares at me in his nerdy tan suit. Tan. Who the f**k wears a tan suit? I try to picture Ford in a tan suit and almost laugh out loud. No.
“Fine, then. I’ll pretend for now. But that’s gonna cost you. I want a custom paint job for my Shrike Bike too.”
I promised him a custom bike if he keeps his eye on Ronnie and helps me slip her a fake loan so she can start her own flower shop business. I’m not sure why Ronnie wants to sell flowers in a shop, she’s never mentioned it before. But if she thinks it’s better than being a tattoo artist, then more power to her. She can take that twenty grand I’m making Carson tell her came from the bank and blow it on shoes for all I care. I just want her to be happy until the trial is over and we can all breathe a sigh of relief.
“Deal. Now what’s the plan for today?”
“Plan?” he asks with this pathetic stupefied expression on his face. “I’m planning on going to work.”
“Not your plan for you, Carson. Your plan for Ronnie. And Ash.” I stick that in since Ford will have a fit if I don’t include her in the recon. “How will you keep them out of trouble?”
“Um…”
“I got it. Ronnie needs a new car, so you call her up later and tell her you wanna go car-shopping. That’s good for one evening. We’ll just have to take it day by day. Ronnie, she’s a little bit unpredictable, ya know?”
He’s shaking his head at me. “A little bit? Are you kidding? That girl scares the shit out of me. And her brother, man, that guy is like… like…” He huffs. “Well, just… Big. And he looks at me with that I’m-gonna-kill-you expression and you know what?”
Carson pauses, like I’m supposed to answer that rhetorical question. I give in. “What?”
“I think he really does want to kill me.”
“Oh, for f**k’s sake, Carson. Vic Vaughn is the least of your concerns. He’s all bark, man. No substance behind that whine. At all.”
“I dunno,” he says.
Vic is not all bark. People think his name is short for Victor, but it’s not. It’s short for Vicious. What parent would name their kid Vicious? Fern Vaughn, that’s who. That motherfucking Vaughn family has been the bane of Fort Collins for decades.
But they are pretty cool people once you’re in with them. Carson just needs to be in. And there’s no better way into the Vaughn family than taking care of their baby sister.
It’s only then I realize Carson is still talking about Vic’s killer attitude. “—and how am I gonna get Veronica to go car-shopping with me tonight, anyway? Huh? She’s not very receptive.”
“Simple,” I say as I take out my phone and grab her contact. I press her beautiful face and listen to the phone ring. My heart beats a little faster as I wait for her to pick up. Three years later and she still makes my heart beat faster. The fourth ring ends and it goes to voicemail. “Fuck,” I say to the machine. “Pick the f**king phone up, Ronnie. I own your ass.” I press end and dial again, but get the same result.
“Rook,” Ronin says calmly. “I told you, we’ll go get it tomorrow when I’m free. Today I have to go down to Denver and work with Antoine on something. In fact”—he looks down at his watch—“I’m late. I gotta go.”
“Ronin, do I look helpless? I can get the bike myself. Besides”—she stops to look over at Ford—“Ashleigh said she’d come help.”
Ford is shaking his head no before Rook even finishes her sentence. “No, Ashleigh never mentioned that to me.”
“Ashleigh doesn’t tell you everything, Ford.”
He laughs. “I’m pretty sure she does.”
Rook smirks and we all start to squirm. “You’d be wrong. I have coffee with her every day now. I know her secrets.”
I chance a glance over at Ford and he’s thinking hard about this. I smirk a little at his discomfort.
“And you,” Rook says, pointing to me. “You think you know Veronica? Well, you don’t. Now hand over the keys or I will call a taxi, go down to the nearest dealership, and buy myself a f**king truck. Hell, maybe I’ll buy myself a motorcycle instead. And ride it home.”
She stomps her foot again, only this time we’re not amused. We’re all scratching our chins.
And then we all remember there’s a f**king camera crew here. Damn.
“OK.” I grab Ronin by the arm. “Give her the keys. She’s being taped today, so she can’t get into any trouble with the camera crew with her.” I stop and the three of us look at each other. “Right?”
Rook beams a triumphant smile and Ronin waves her through the door to go tell the garage guys to let her take the truck.
I wait until they are halfway down the aisle before I walk over and close the door again. Ford and I turn to Carson and he’s smiling. He likes the fact that Rook won and we lost.
“Carson, look,” Ford says. “You can be in the Club if you keep an eye on Ashleigh too. In fact, I think you should just come clean and tell these girls you’re g*y. You can be the g*y best friend. Do their makeup and hair, paint their toenails, whatever it is that g*y best friends do with girls.”
“I’m not g*y,” Carson starts.
But Ford is not even listening. He’s talking to me now. “If he keeps an eye on Ash and watches Fight Club, he’s in.” And then he pulls the door open and walks out.
I turn to Carson. “I’m not g*y,” he repeats.
“Carson, do you want in the Club or not? Just pretend, dude. You get to hang out with pretty girls, what’s wrong with that?”
He glares at me in his nerdy tan suit. Tan. Who the f**k wears a tan suit? I try to picture Ford in a tan suit and almost laugh out loud. No.
“Fine, then. I’ll pretend for now. But that’s gonna cost you. I want a custom paint job for my Shrike Bike too.”
I promised him a custom bike if he keeps his eye on Ronnie and helps me slip her a fake loan so she can start her own flower shop business. I’m not sure why Ronnie wants to sell flowers in a shop, she’s never mentioned it before. But if she thinks it’s better than being a tattoo artist, then more power to her. She can take that twenty grand I’m making Carson tell her came from the bank and blow it on shoes for all I care. I just want her to be happy until the trial is over and we can all breathe a sigh of relief.
“Deal. Now what’s the plan for today?”
“Plan?” he asks with this pathetic stupefied expression on his face. “I’m planning on going to work.”
“Not your plan for you, Carson. Your plan for Ronnie. And Ash.” I stick that in since Ford will have a fit if I don’t include her in the recon. “How will you keep them out of trouble?”
“Um…”
“I got it. Ronnie needs a new car, so you call her up later and tell her you wanna go car-shopping. That’s good for one evening. We’ll just have to take it day by day. Ronnie, she’s a little bit unpredictable, ya know?”
He’s shaking his head at me. “A little bit? Are you kidding? That girl scares the shit out of me. And her brother, man, that guy is like… like…” He huffs. “Well, just… Big. And he looks at me with that I’m-gonna-kill-you expression and you know what?”
Carson pauses, like I’m supposed to answer that rhetorical question. I give in. “What?”
“I think he really does want to kill me.”
“Oh, for f**k’s sake, Carson. Vic Vaughn is the least of your concerns. He’s all bark, man. No substance behind that whine. At all.”
“I dunno,” he says.
Vic is not all bark. People think his name is short for Victor, but it’s not. It’s short for Vicious. What parent would name their kid Vicious? Fern Vaughn, that’s who. That motherfucking Vaughn family has been the bane of Fort Collins for decades.
But they are pretty cool people once you’re in with them. Carson just needs to be in. And there’s no better way into the Vaughn family than taking care of their baby sister.
It’s only then I realize Carson is still talking about Vic’s killer attitude. “—and how am I gonna get Veronica to go car-shopping with me tonight, anyway? Huh? She’s not very receptive.”
“Simple,” I say as I take out my phone and grab her contact. I press her beautiful face and listen to the phone ring. My heart beats a little faster as I wait for her to pick up. Three years later and she still makes my heart beat faster. The fourth ring ends and it goes to voicemail. “Fuck,” I say to the machine. “Pick the f**king phone up, Ronnie. I own your ass.” I press end and dial again, but get the same result.
