DIRTY READS

by Scott Hildreth

  “So Duc smacked me, took the stone, and then what?” I asked.

  “Duc Nguyen sold it to the federal agents. This I know. So, it stands to reason he is the one who smacked you. At any rate, the feds went to your jeweler, and said if anyone came around asking about buying said stone – or anything of the kind – to give them a call. They not only went to your jeweler; they went to all jewelers who deal with diamonds on a large scale.”

  “Interesting.”

  “So, why bust Jess? A law-abiding woman?”

  “Well, here’s the thing with the feds. They couldn’t give a shit who they bust or how. All they want is a statistic. And, feds don’t play by any rules, so when they went to the jewelers. They had the man with the mustache – Special Agent Whitmire – act as a man who had a stone for sale. They didn’t make it known that they were federal agents. It’s not uncommon. They’re a shitty bunch to deal with.”

  “So she was just a fall guy? Or fall girl in this instance?”

  He folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. “That is correct.”

  “Those fuckers.”

  “Another tidbit for you. The Ferrari’s VIN was checked when it was parked, probably while you were in the bar, and it came up as stolen. They opted to wait and see if it was going to be used in the heist. When you pulled in front of the bar, they were certain you were the actual buyer. They had hopes of busting you, but they didn’t know who you were, as the car is not registered to you. When you slipped away, you became somewhat of a ghost. They questioned the previous owner of the car, and he said nothing. Seems he was scared.”

  “My favorite car is stolen?” Jess screeched.

  “Long story,” I said.

  She chuckled. “No wonder they were chasing us.”

  “He should be scared,” I said. “Fucker owes me three hundred k.”

  Seton alternated glances between us. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” I said. “So, mystery solved. But, I’ve got to find another fence, more buyers, and, well, everyone. This will make my job a little tougher.”

  “I’ve got to get,” Seton said. “Headed out to Vegas tonight.”

  “Don’t you dare gamble that money away, you idiot,” I warned.

  He stood up. “I’ve got a win coming, I can feel it.”

  “Bye Seton,” Jess said with a wave.

  “See ya, kid.”

  I nodded. “Seton.”

  “See ya, Dick.”

  “So what now?” Jess asked.

  “Well, I said. I’ve got a diamond to sell. And it looks like I need to find a new crew. Fuck, who can you trust? That’s what I want to know. Who the fuck can I trust?”

  Jess shrugged. “Nobody but me and Seton.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” I agreed.

  And I knew, deep down inside, that she was right.

  ***

  “What’s the zero to sixty time?” I asked.

  The salesman shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean you’re not fucking sure? It’s published somewhere, isn’t it? It’s performance data. This is a performance car, right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Well?”

  “I don’t know that we provide those numbers. It promotes speeding and street racing.”

  I shook my head in sheer disgust. “It promotes sales. The car has almost five hundred horsepower. It weights three thousand pounds. What the fuck else is someone going to do with it?”

  He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, pursed his lips, and shrugged.

  The political correctness of society aggravated me.

  “Get the keys to this little fucker, I want to drive it.”

  “Let me get them,” he said.

  I opened the door and looked inside while he was walking away. The red leather interior was a great compliment to the white exterior. Similar to the Ferrari, it had paddle shifters and no clutch pedal. My guess was that it would be pretty fun to drive.

  I realized I loved Jess, and I wanted her to know how I felt about her. Buying her flowers, a card, or some other dumb shit just seemed stupid. She had a shitty car, a crappy job, and only $50 extra bucks a week, so devised a little plan to resolve her woes and help me at the same time. The first part of the plan involved getting her a car.

  The way she enjoyed the day we ran from the cops told me a performance model would make her happier than anything else.

  “Here you go.” He pressed the button, unlocked the doors, and handed me the keys.

  I opened the door. He did the same. “I don’t need a chauffeur,” I said.

  “Policy.”

  I started the car, listened to the drone of the exhaust, and grinned. It sounded healthy. We both secured our seatbelts and I pulled out of the lot and onto the street.

  “If you take this back to 183, you can go down to…”

  “I’m not going to 183, I’m going to go up McNeil to Parmer,” I said.

  He scowled. “We have a preferred route.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? A preferred route? I’m the one buying this motherfucker, I’ll drive it where the fuck I want.”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made a call. “We’re taking an alternate route. McNeil to Parmer.”

  “What the fuck? You had to call that in?”

  He shrugged. “It’s policy.”

  I pulled up to the traffic light and stopped as it switched to yellow. A new Dodge Challenger R/T pulled to the light beside me. Unlike the BMW M4, the Dodge’s exhaust rumbled, the car shook, and it was obviously a performance car.

  I glanced at the driver of the Dodge. He met my gaze. I nodded toward the light. He nodded in response.

  “Don’t you dare…”

  The light turned green, and I stomped the gas.

  The car lunged forward and the engine revved, leaving the Dodge a few feet behind. The tachometer quickly rose to the 7,500 rpm redline, and I tapped the paddle shifter.

  The Dodge slowly crept to my side.

  Once again, the redline, and another quick shift.

  The salesman screamed like a little girl as the BMW climbed to 100 miles an hour. “You can’t do this…”

  “Shut up. I am doing it.”

  The redline again, another gear, and we shot onto the highway at 125 miles an hour. The Dodge was twenty feet behind us.

  I maneuvered around the 70 mile-an-hour traffic, swerving in and out of lanes. The car quickly reached 155 miles an hour, at which point it stopped increasing speed like it had hit a brick wall.

  I looked in the rearview mirror. The Dodge was nowhere in sight. “What the fuck? This thing hit a wall at 155?”

  He fought to catch his breath as I slowed down to 80. “The U.S. models are electronically limited.”

  “Can you remove it?” I asked.

  He inhaled a deep breath. “What?”

  “The fucking limiter?”

  “We can, but it’ll cost you.”

  “The girl I’m buying this for will want it removed. If you can remove it, I’ll take it.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “This car isn’t a car for a girl.”

  “Well. This isn’t a typical girl,” I said.

  “She better not be,” he said. “Not with this.”

  “She’s not,” I assured him. “Not even close.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Jess

  “WHERE are we going?” I asked.

  “I already told you. Lunch,” Dick responded.

  “Why are we driving the family car? And where for lunch?”

  “It’s not a family car, it’s a performance sedan. And I don’t know yet.”

  “It has four doors. That’s two too many,” I said. “And, I want that noodle soup.”

  He changed lanes, passed a slow-moving truck, and glared at me. “I like this car.”

  “It’s a sedan. I don’t like sedans.”

  He pulled against the paddle shifter th
ree times and mashed the gas.

  The car took off like a rocket. In a few seconds we were going twice the speed of the traffic. “Holy shit!” I shouted.

  “See?”

  “Okay,” I admitted. “It’s a performance sedan. But it’s still a sedan.”

  He exited the highway and pulled up to the stop light beside the BMW dealership.

  I pointed toward the display of cars. “See? They have a ton of BMWs that are coupes.”

  “Let’s have a look,” he said.

  He turned into the lot and parked. A salesman came running up to the car and asked if he wanted to trade it in on a new M5.

  “It is new,” Dick said.

  We laughed and eventually walked in to the showroom. A white car sat on the showroom floor with a big red bow tied around the top of it.

  “Awwe. That’s so cute,” I said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The car with the bow.”

  “What?” he asked. “You like the bow?”

  “Yeah, but look at the car. It’s different than the rest of the coupes. See how it sits lower, and has the performance wheels? It’s got a mean look to it. It looks fast.”

  I liked that I knew a little bit about cars, and I wasn’t a typical girl when it came to vehicles. If I was rich, I would have a car like the white car and I would drive it fast everywhere I went.

  My car, on the other hand, was a piece of shit. It wasn’t even paid for, and I had a payday loan against it in addition to the bank loan.

  Dick walked around to the back of the car and looked at the trunk. “It’s an M4,” he said. “It is the performance model.”

  “Told ya,” I said.

  “Look at the top. It’s a convertible.”

  I laughed. “It is not, it’s a hardtop.”

  “No, actually the BMWs have a hard top,” he said. “But it retracts into the trunk. Best of both worlds.”

  He walked around to the side. Out of curiosity, I asked the price. He glanced at the window sticker. “This one’s 91 grand with the options it has.”

  “Holy crap,” I said. “Let’s go eat.”

  It really didn’t matter if it was 90 dollars or ninety grand, I couldn’t afford it. As I mentally prepared to leave, a salesman walked up to us and shook Dick’s hand.

  “Dick, right? I remember you when you bought the blue M5.”

  “Yep. Good memory,” Dick said. “Hey can you answer a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why’s this got a bow on it?”

  “Well, it’s been sold. Someone bought it as a gift for a special person.”

  Some rich fucker.

  “We’re waiting for her to pick it up,” he said.

  Awwe, it’s a her. He bought it for his wife.

  “Huh. What’s her name? The lucky girl?”

  “Jessica.” The salesman said.

  My heart skipped a beat. I knew the car wasn’t for me, but it was really cool to think about the person who was getting it had my same name.

  “Jessica? No shit?” Dick said. “Jessica what?”

  “Shunk,” the salesman said.

  My legs did the wobbly thing. I raised my hand like a kindergartner wanting to ask a question of the teacher. “Huh? Who?”

  “Shunk,” he said. “Jessica Shunk.”

  My hands were shaking. I looked at Dick. Dick shrugged. I looked at the salesman. He grinned.

  “My name’s Jessica Shunk.”

  “You don’t say,” he said. “Do you have an I.D.?”

  I nodded. “But it’s got to be a coincidence.”

  “Well, do you know your driver’s license number? We have it saved for her under her driver’s license number.”

  I reached into my purse, pulled out my wallet, and stared down at my license. “TS-901-497--”

  “7557?” he asked.

  I bit my lower lip and nodded my head. I felt faint. It couldn’t be. There was no way…

  “I love you, Jess,” Dick said.

  I looked at the salesman. He nodded and smiled. I looked at Dick. He grinned. It made no sense that they’d play with someone’s emotions the way they were. I actually thought it was true.

  “Well.” Dick reached into his pocket. “Here’s the key.”

  You’re serious?

  I swallowed hard. “You’re serious.”

  He tossed me the key.

  I pressed the button on the key fob. The lights flashed. I pressed it again. They flashed again.

  “Dick?”

  He walked around the edge of the car and gave me a kiss. “I love you. Enjoy it.”

  My eyes welled with tears. “It’s really…”

  “It sure is.”

  “Dick it’s…”

  “It’s yours. It’s already paid for, so no arguing.”

  He must have sold the diamond. I shook my head. “I love you too.”

  “You’re driving to lunch,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  I looked around. We were surrounded by glass. “How do we get out of here.”

  “If you want to take the bow off, I’ll open up the south wall,” the salesman said.

  My heart was racing. I helped Dick remove the bow, put it in the trunk, and got inside. After a quick adjustment of the seat, I gripped the steering wheel and looked around the interior.

  “It’s just like the Ferrari. Double clutch manual with no pedal. Just paddle shifters.”

  “Holy shit!” I said. “That’s awesome. Dick, it’s perfect.”

  “Where are we going for lunch?” he asked.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said.

  “Where?” he asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  THIRTY

  Dick

  “Where are we going for lunch?” I asked in as whiny of a voice as I could.

  With her sunglasses on and the top down, Jess paid little attention to my question. She signaled and changed lanes. A few seconds later, she signaled and changed back.

  “Where are we going for lunch?”

  “You’ll see,” she said.

  I suspected we were going to the soup kitchen. She’d been asking about it for some time, and was upset that she didn’t get to finish her bowl of soup on the night we saw Drake and Duc.

  “Soup?” I asked.

  With the top down, the wind blew her hair in every direction. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “Nope.”

  It was rewarding seeing her pleased with the car. It was the least I could do for her, considering how much she meant to me. I had much more planned for her, but had to wait until we were somewhere we could talk before I could go into detail.

  She got off the highway, pulled up to the stoplight, and turned on the turn signal.

  “We going shopping?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  The left arrow turned green and she sped through the light. Another lane change. this time to the right, and she pulled into Target.

  “Remember this place?” she asked.

  I nodded. “How could I forget?”

  “You’re going to fuck me with the top down.”

  I laughed. “We’ll get arrested.”

  “Not if you’re careful.”

  “And quick,” I said.

  She pulled in behind the store, almost in the same spot I had parked in previously. Out of the way of traffic, but still in clear view for the perverts and rubberneckers to see, she parked.

  “I’m going to fuck you senseless,” she said.

  “Hey, that’s my line.”

  There had been so many changes in my life in the last few months, none of which I regretted. Not one of them was easy to believe, but they were easy for me to accept. I would never second guess Jess’ existence in my life – she was perfect for me, and the only answer to resolving my otherwise dismal love life.

  “Take off your pants,” she demanded.

  “Such a romantic.”

  I glanced over each shoulder and upon seeing no one, unbuc
kled my belt. She lasted all of fifteen seconds before deciding to help me pull them down. As soon as they were at my thighs, she removed her jean shorts and tossed them in the back seat. Panties followed.

  She stroked my cock a few times, but I was well beyond excited as it was. Standing at complete attention, my cock was pointing at the sky. Sitting in the driver’s seat, she spread her legs a little, stuck her finger in her pussy, and grinned.

  “Soaked,” she said. “Always wet for you.”

  “Good.”

  She climbed over the console and straddled me with her back against my chest. As I felt her wetness touch the tip of my dick, I moaned in anticipation. She exhaled sharply as her tight warmth encompassed the tip. I watched as she slowly lowered herself down the entire length, resting her ass against my thighs once I was completely inside of her.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  I laughed at her sense of humor. “I love you.”

  She slapped her hands against the dash and began to work her hips back and forth with precision. I watched in amazement as my cock disappeared into her pussy only to be withdrawn with another gyration of her beautiful ass.

  I reached around her and squeezed her breasts, using them as leverage to guide her up and down.

  The warm sun, the passing cars, and the thought of being back at the Target where we had sex after I lost the diamond – but didn’t yet trust her enough to tell her what happened – proved to be too much.

  “I’m not going to make it,” I admitted.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you gonna cum?”

  “Yeah…” I groaned.

  She stuck her hand between her legs and began to rub her clit.

  I felt my balls tighten.

  “Wait for me,” she begged.

  I bit against my lower lip and did my best to think of anything that would allow me to last a few more seconds. She continued the same pace, banging her ass down on my thighs, taking my cock into her completely with each thrust.

  Watching myself disappear into her tight pussy was more than I could take. My cock began to swell.