Guns: The Spencer Book
Page 9
Silence.
“Uh, you know, so we can finalize the loan?”
“Riiiiight,” I say back. “The loan. Ah… yeah. I do need a car.” I eyeball Rook. “But I’ve found some transportation until I’m ready to buy another one. As for the paperwork, I’ve decided I don’t need the loan anymore. I’m good, and a flower shop was never gonna be my thing, OK? Well, it’s been nice knowing you, take care.” And before he can say anything I end the call and slip the phone back into my pack.
“Spencer will f**king kill me if you get on that bike today, Ronnie.” Rook picks up our conversation like Carson never even called. “It’s wet out!”
I walk over to the front window and crack the blinds apart. “It’s stopped raining already. It’s supposed to be sunny today. Just a morning shower.” I smile sweetly at her. Rook is a pushover, I’m not worried. When I told her I wanted to buy the bike, she said she’d give it to me. But I made certain I paid her what it was worth last night when I sold my car. Every cent I got from my Mini Cooper went to Rook. And I’ve got the signed title and the bill of sale in my wallet.
“Stop worrying. I told you, my little brother Vann and I took motorcycle classes together lasts summer. We’re pros now. Besides, you’re one to talk. You took off on that bike last year and drove it a thousand miles away and you lived.”
“Yeah, Spencer and Ford came and hauled my ass back, too. They were not happy. Not at all. And Ronin gave me the kibosh on riding ever since. All three of them will kill me if I take you out there and let you ride.”
“Rook, whose side are you on?” I exclaim. “It’s hoes before bros, bitch.”
She halts the rant about to come out of her mouth and laughs. “Hoes…” She shakes her head at that. “Ronnie, if you crash—”
“I’m not gonna crash, I told you. Vann and I have logged almost a hundred hours already. We’ve been on the sneak for almost a year. He’s even got a bike halfway built at his friend’s garage. He’ll be riding it on his eighteenth in June.”
She gives me a doubtful look. But all that was one hundred percent true. I hitch my pack over my shoulder, open the front door, and wave her through.
She accepts my invitation and I’m in. I am f**king in, baby.
My new life starts today.
Biker Bomb Ronnie.
Chapter Four
SPENCER
“What do ya mean she doesn’t want the loan?” Fucking Veronica. Can’t this woman ever just go with the f**king flow? Why does she have to make my life so complicated?
“You were standing right here, Shrike. She blew me off and said she was never interested in the flower shop idea anyway.”
“Then—” I throw my hands up. “What the f**k is she doing?”
Carson checks his fingernails and suddenly he reminds me of a less cool version of Ford. “How should I know what that woman is thinking? I barely know her. She said she has transportation and she didn’t need a car just yet.”
“Trans—well, where the f**k did she get a car? I just saw her ass walking home less than an hour ago. How could she have picked up a vehicle in that time? Especially when I left her cold and wet”—very, very wet—“walking home barefoot in the rain.”
“Just for the record, that’s a dick move.”
I raise my eyebrows. Charlie Brown is getting brave.
“Look,” Carson says impatiently, “as much as I’d like to help you out, I told my old man I was at the dentist to come here this morning. I gotta get back to work. I’ll stop by tomorrow and we’ll talk ideas about my custom paint job. Later.”
And he just walks out.
Fuck. I rub the stubble on my head. Bombshell is gonna send me to my grave, that’s how crazy she drives me. I fish my phone out of my pocket and press her beautiful face. It rings through on the first ring. “You’ve reached Ronnie Vaughn. I’m either working or playing…”
I end the call and sit on the corner of my desk to think.
Ford comes back with a camera crew a few minutes later. “What’s up with them?” I ask, pointing to the three-man crew. “I thought they were Team Rook today?”
“Yeah, well, she told them she had to go to the women’s doctor and if they tried to follow her, they’d each get, and I quote, ‘a boot in the balls.’ She took off from the coffee shop and left them standing outside.”
I just stare at him. “So… she’s got my truck. Ronin’s out of town. She’s conveniently got an appointment no one knew about. Ronnie’s out of area and suddenly came up with her own mode of transportation. Something is not right.”
Ford’s already pushing the crew out of the office and closing the door while he dials his phone. “Ashleigh?” he says with some relief. “Have you seen Ronnie or Rook?” He listens to her for a few seconds and then pops off an, “I love you, be home at six,” and ends the call.
They sorta make me gag. That’s how sweet and considerate they are of each other. I can’t stop the eye roll. “What’d she say?”
He shrugs. “Ronnie went with Rook to a doctor’s appointment.”
“Huh.”
We stare at each other, both of us thinking that’s all total bullshit. But then Director Larry comes in and drags our minds back to work and we drop it. Ford and Larry are busy setting up stationary cameras in front of each of the mechanics’ bays, inside the paint room—we have our own in-house painter now—and in the showroom, behind Rook’s desk.
“Uh, you know, so we can finalize the loan?”
“Riiiiight,” I say back. “The loan. Ah… yeah. I do need a car.” I eyeball Rook. “But I’ve found some transportation until I’m ready to buy another one. As for the paperwork, I’ve decided I don’t need the loan anymore. I’m good, and a flower shop was never gonna be my thing, OK? Well, it’s been nice knowing you, take care.” And before he can say anything I end the call and slip the phone back into my pack.
“Spencer will f**king kill me if you get on that bike today, Ronnie.” Rook picks up our conversation like Carson never even called. “It’s wet out!”
I walk over to the front window and crack the blinds apart. “It’s stopped raining already. It’s supposed to be sunny today. Just a morning shower.” I smile sweetly at her. Rook is a pushover, I’m not worried. When I told her I wanted to buy the bike, she said she’d give it to me. But I made certain I paid her what it was worth last night when I sold my car. Every cent I got from my Mini Cooper went to Rook. And I’ve got the signed title and the bill of sale in my wallet.
“Stop worrying. I told you, my little brother Vann and I took motorcycle classes together lasts summer. We’re pros now. Besides, you’re one to talk. You took off on that bike last year and drove it a thousand miles away and you lived.”
“Yeah, Spencer and Ford came and hauled my ass back, too. They were not happy. Not at all. And Ronin gave me the kibosh on riding ever since. All three of them will kill me if I take you out there and let you ride.”
“Rook, whose side are you on?” I exclaim. “It’s hoes before bros, bitch.”
She halts the rant about to come out of her mouth and laughs. “Hoes…” She shakes her head at that. “Ronnie, if you crash—”
“I’m not gonna crash, I told you. Vann and I have logged almost a hundred hours already. We’ve been on the sneak for almost a year. He’s even got a bike halfway built at his friend’s garage. He’ll be riding it on his eighteenth in June.”
She gives me a doubtful look. But all that was one hundred percent true. I hitch my pack over my shoulder, open the front door, and wave her through.
She accepts my invitation and I’m in. I am f**king in, baby.
My new life starts today.
Biker Bomb Ronnie.
Chapter Four
SPENCER
“What do ya mean she doesn’t want the loan?” Fucking Veronica. Can’t this woman ever just go with the f**king flow? Why does she have to make my life so complicated?
“You were standing right here, Shrike. She blew me off and said she was never interested in the flower shop idea anyway.”
“Then—” I throw my hands up. “What the f**k is she doing?”
Carson checks his fingernails and suddenly he reminds me of a less cool version of Ford. “How should I know what that woman is thinking? I barely know her. She said she has transportation and she didn’t need a car just yet.”
“Trans—well, where the f**k did she get a car? I just saw her ass walking home less than an hour ago. How could she have picked up a vehicle in that time? Especially when I left her cold and wet”—very, very wet—“walking home barefoot in the rain.”
“Just for the record, that’s a dick move.”
I raise my eyebrows. Charlie Brown is getting brave.
“Look,” Carson says impatiently, “as much as I’d like to help you out, I told my old man I was at the dentist to come here this morning. I gotta get back to work. I’ll stop by tomorrow and we’ll talk ideas about my custom paint job. Later.”
And he just walks out.
Fuck. I rub the stubble on my head. Bombshell is gonna send me to my grave, that’s how crazy she drives me. I fish my phone out of my pocket and press her beautiful face. It rings through on the first ring. “You’ve reached Ronnie Vaughn. I’m either working or playing…”
I end the call and sit on the corner of my desk to think.
Ford comes back with a camera crew a few minutes later. “What’s up with them?” I ask, pointing to the three-man crew. “I thought they were Team Rook today?”
“Yeah, well, she told them she had to go to the women’s doctor and if they tried to follow her, they’d each get, and I quote, ‘a boot in the balls.’ She took off from the coffee shop and left them standing outside.”
I just stare at him. “So… she’s got my truck. Ronin’s out of town. She’s conveniently got an appointment no one knew about. Ronnie’s out of area and suddenly came up with her own mode of transportation. Something is not right.”
Ford’s already pushing the crew out of the office and closing the door while he dials his phone. “Ashleigh?” he says with some relief. “Have you seen Ronnie or Rook?” He listens to her for a few seconds and then pops off an, “I love you, be home at six,” and ends the call.
They sorta make me gag. That’s how sweet and considerate they are of each other. I can’t stop the eye roll. “What’d she say?”
He shrugs. “Ronnie went with Rook to a doctor’s appointment.”
“Huh.”
We stare at each other, both of us thinking that’s all total bullshit. But then Director Larry comes in and drags our minds back to work and we drop it. Ford and Larry are busy setting up stationary cameras in front of each of the mechanics’ bays, inside the paint room—we have our own in-house painter now—and in the showroom, behind Rook’s desk.
