Molly Miranda: Thief for Hire (Book 1) Action Adventure Comedy

by Jillianne Hamilton

  Rhys looked at me from across the floor, tears in his eyes. He looked terrified but probably no more than I was.

  “This bitch got me fired,” Lisa said. “After that, nobody wanted to hire me. I had to start over. You fucking ruined me, you and Paul.”

  I glared at her, my throat tightening. “You shot Paul, didn’t you?”

  Lisa just smiled. “Only a little.”

  “And you followed me to Oklahoma.”

  Her smile faded. “I was so pissed when I didn’t kill you that night. So pissed! Could not believe it when my gun jammed. My therapist says I have anger issues. So I decided to pay Paul a visit instead.” She walked over to the table and picked up the wooden statue. “This little guy is hilarious. Just decided to keep it for myself.”

  “You didn’t have to kill that guy in Oklahoma.”

  “He could have seen your face. I don’t want you in prison, sweetie.” She put the statue back in the middle of the table. “I’m going to kill you for real this time.”

  “Your career is going really well,” Rhys said. “So why are you doing this?”

  Lisa knelt down beside Rhys and leaned in close. “You’re really handy to have around, Rhys—you and your little gadgets. But you won’t work with me anymore.” She stood up and spun her pistol on her finger like Annie Oakley.

  Rhys swallowed and looked at the floor.

  “Why don’t you tell Molly what you told me?” Lisa whispered.

  He exhaled and avoided eye contact. “I told her I didn’t want to work with her anymore, just you.”

  I blinked at him. “Why?”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “Exactly how fucking stupid are you, anyway? He’s obviously in love with you.” She stuck her finger in her mouth and pretended to gag.

  Oh.

  “Thanks,” Rhys mumbled. He looked embarrassed. Ashamed, even.

  Lisa swung her leg back and booted Rhys in the knee. He howled in agony, his face contorted, his jaw clenched.

  “I can’t have my competition running around with his little gadgets, so I’m just going to kill you,” Lisa said, looking straight down at Rhys. “But first I’m going to kill your little girlfriend right in front of you, because she’s a pain in the ass.”

  A cell phone rang in Lisa’s pocket. “I have to take this. Don’t go anywhere.”

  The tall heels of her boots clicked as she walked back to the office and closed the door behind her.

  “Molly,” Rhys whispered. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking—”

  “Rhys. Shut up. Roll over.”

  I worked at the tape a bit more.

  “I’m sorry I got you into this—”

  “Rhys. Seriously. Stop talking.”

  “Wait,” Rhys said, moving his butt closer to me instead of his hands. “The car key is still in my pocket!”

  I had to spoon him to be able to reach into his pocket but I managed to grip the leather tag and pull it out. I held onto the tag and used a sharp edge of the Aston Martin logo to cut through the tape about halfway down.

  The office door opened as Rhys tried to separate his wrists behind his back, but the tape would not rip apart. I grabbed the key and held it between my hands, still tied tight together.

  “Change of plans!” Lisa shouted. “We’re going for a little drive.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “You two are going to go get into the car in the truck.” Lisa pointed to the Aston Martin.

  “How are we supposed to do that? Our feet are taped together,” Rhys snapped.

  Lisa pointed the gun at my head. “Perhaps you should hop like a bunny.”

  Making tiny, deliberate hops, we made it across the cement floor to the car and Lisa shoved us into the front seats.

  She surveyed the car. “Where are the keys?”

  “Up your arse,” Rhys said, sounding more Scottish than usual.

  She cuffed the back of his head and patted him down. She checked above the mirror. A little spare key fell out onto the seat. I looked the other way, hiding my surprise. Lisa snatched up the key.

  She shut the doors of the truck behind us, dropping us into darkness. Soon we heard the truck start and felt it move. It was impossible to tell where we were or where we were heading.

  “Twist around in your seat so I can get the rest of the tape off your wrists,” I said.

  This time I chewed my way through the tape since my hands were still grasping tight to the key with the leather tag.

  “You’re drooling all over my hands.”

  “Yeah, well, deal with it. I’m probably going to die of glue poisoning.”

  The tape snapped and his hands were freed. He ripped through the tape on my hands, the tape on my feet and then the tape on his ankles.

  Rhys sat back in the plush leather set and sighed. “Now what do we do?”

  I smiled coyly and dangled the key from my finger.

  “Oh my god!” Rhys grabbed my face and kissed me hard on the mouth. “Sorry. I really need to stop doing that.” He snatched the key from me. “We need to switch places.”

  “I can drive.”

  “Sure you can.”

  “No, really. I can drive this car.”

  Rhys crossed his arms over his chest, one eyebrow arched. He didn’t believe me.

  “Doesn’t mean I should drive it, though,” I said. “You, either. Every cop in England is going to be on the lookout for this car. If what you tell me is true, it’s worth more than the crown jewels.”

  Rhys shrugged. “Basically.”

  “And I am not going to survive this only to get arrested for theft. That is not happening. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

  What would my father do?

  * * *

  After an hour of driving, the truck stopped. I put the key in the ignition and readied to start the engine. There was some metal clanking sounds at the doors. They opened and I turned the key.

  It all happened so fast.

  The tires screeched to life as we went flying out of the back of the truck, the back of the car scraping against the doors. We soared backwards through the air, landing with a hard crunch several feet away from the truck.

  If this car doesn’t move after that little trick, I am going to be so pissed and never watch a James Bond movie ever again!

  The car roared to life as I floored it again and tore out of what looked like a different warehouse, this one dimly lit and smaller. A handful of people jumped out of our way. Their faces were blurs as we sped by.

  “Oh, fuck!” Rhys shouted. “We hit someone!”

  “Are they dead?” I looked around.

  “No, I think you just clipped them—”

  “Then I don’t fucking care!” I changed gears and swerved out of the building and onto a country road.

  “Be careful with this car!” Rhys shouted. “I’ve decided I’d like to keep it after all!”

  I didn’t know where we were going. I just drove as fast as I could. It was late at night so road signs and landmarks were invisible. We were in the middle of nowhere. I could make out green fields in the distance, probably farmland.

  “We can’t stay in this car for very long,” I said. “We have to get our bearings and find a place to ditch it.” I plucked my phone from my corset top and tossed it to Rhys.

  “One bar,” he said. “Looks like Audrey tried calling you a couple times.”

  I passed a slow-moving car on the road as specks of rain hit the windshield. “Audrey will have to wait.”

  “You’re a better driver better than I expected.”

  “Thanks.” I checked the rear-view mirror. “But not fast enough.”

  Rhys turned around in his seat. The delivery truck was speeding up behind us, getting so close I could see the driver’s face—Lisa. She looked furious. She held a gun in one hand and steered with the other.

  Rhys stared through the
back windshield. “How the hell did she catch up to us when we’re in a fucking James Bond car?”

  “Maybe the car isn’t fast enough—”

  “Or maybe it’s the driver!” He slammed his foot onto mine to press harder on the gas, jolting the car forward.

  “I’d rather not die tonight!” I screamed.

  “Me neither! Drive faster!” He sat back in his seat and watched the truck in the mirror. “Blaming the James Bond car,” he mumbled. “You’ve got some nerve.”

  The rain poured down harder, making it difficult to see where I was driving. I saw a street sign and cranked the wheel, making a sharp left turn.

  Kids, if you ever get a chance to drive a luxury vehicle on unfamiliar roads, on the opposite side of the road, in the rain and way over the speed limit … just don’t.

  Gunfire rang through the air. I checked the mirror. Lisa leaned out of the side of the truck, firing at us. I swerved the car left and right to make us a difficult target. A bullet hit the driver’s side mirror, sending it flying off, spinning and hitting the pavement behind us.

  The road twisted and turned. Farmland suddenly switched to a rocky coastline. Despite the zigzagging roads, the truck was closer to us but Lisa seemed to be out of bullets for now. I checked my mirror. She was struggling to reload while driving. Somehow the truck picked up speed and bumped the back of our car, jolting us in our seats.

  Rhys shook his fist back at her. “The fuck are you doing? You don’t intentionally hit the back of a James Bond car!”

  I cranked the wheel and made a tight corner. The sound of gunfire rang in my ears. And then the sound of glass shattering. I looked in the rear-view. Tiny shards of glass from the rear window bounced down over the back seat.

  “Stop doing that!” he yelled at Lisa.

  More shots from the truck. A bullet hit a tire and the car swerved out of control. Bits of shredded rubber flew off the tire. A second bullet flew between Rhys and me, hitting the windshield, causing it to splinter into a million cracks.

  “Oh my god! I can’t see!” I screamed, gripping the wheel as the car totally ignored where I tried to steer it.

  Rhys grabbed the wheel and we veered off into the shallow ditch on the side of the road. Between the rocky cliff on the other side and a grassy ditch, it was probably the better option. The car was resting in the ditch on an angle and I tipped from the driver’s seat and fell roughly against Rhys.

  The truck’s brakes screeched as Lisa tried to navigate the sharp bend in the road. Another car sped around the corner toward her, high beams on. The lights from the truck and the car together were almost blinding. The car swerved left, just in time, to avoid the truck and veered into the ditch, hitting the Aston Martin head-on. Hard. Shattered glass flew at us. Metal crunched around us. Rhys covered my head with his arms, holding me tight.

  Before the shattered glass flew at us, I watched the truck, in its own attempt to avoid the car, swerve too far to the right, disappearing over the side of the cliff on the other side of the road.

  Everything was silent, except for the tapping of rain on broken glass and twisted metal and the distant sound of waves crashing onto rocks.

  Sore but safe, I climbed out of the driver’s side door, grabbing my phone from the floor and Rhys’s coat from the back seat. Rhys followed me since he couldn’t get his door open.

  Rhys ran over to the driver in the other car, who was knocked out. Rhys stuck his hand through the broken window and checked his pulse.

  “He’s alive,” he said. “Doesn’t seem to have any major injuries.”

  I frowned at Rhys. “Are you alright—oh my god, you’ve got a chunk of glass in your arm.”

  Dazed, Rhys looked down at his arm. “Oh.” He looked back at me. “I’m bleeding.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” I looked around. “More cars will be passing by at any time. We have to get off the road.”

  We stumbled to the edge of the pavement and looked over the cliff edge. The delivery truck was destroyed, mangled on the jagged rocks below. Angry waves crashed up against the side of the van.

  We ran into the woods. Rhys’s shirtsleeve was soaked red and he stumbled as he lost more and more blood. I held his arm and kept him running for as long as he could. When he slowed down we stopped and threw ourselves into a soft, wet moss heap under a tree.

  “We need to get the glass out of your arm.”

  Rhys’s eyes bulged. “Why-why-why-why do we need to do that? We don’t need to do that. Why do we—”

  “Because I’ve watched a lot of movies, and when someone has something in their arm, it always has to get pulled out.”

  I found a stick and stuck it in his mouth to bite down on. And yes, I saw that in a movie, too. I held the piece of glass carefully between my finger and thumb. “Are you ready? I’m going to count to three. One. Two.”

  I pulled it out on two. Thankfully, it came out easily and clean. Rhys screamed into the stick and it crunched under his teeth. His face went pale as he stared down at the bloody slice.

  I ripped off his other sleeve and tied the fabric around the wound to slow the bleeding. Rhys’s lip quivered and he winced in pain.

  The bleeding eventually stopped but the rain just kept pouring through the leafy canopy above us. I found some low-hanging branches with thick leaves and spread them out over us as we lay on the cold, damp ground and fell asleep, cuddled together and shivering in the rain.

  * * *

  “Oh, yeah. I see how it is.”

  My tired eyes slowly opened. The rain had stopped and sun was shining down in streams between the branches. Rhys was snoring, his arm draped over me and his hand cupping my left boob. I pushed his hand away and looked up at the figure looming over us. I wiped my eyes, just to make sure it was a person and not a ghost.

  “Dad?”

  He crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t even want to know.”

  Rhys snorted and sat up. He grabbed his arm and rubbed it. “Oh, shit. Ow.”

  “Rhys, I believe you’ve met my father.”

  He looked up at Dad, saw how close he’d been lying next to me just then and scooted over a bit.

  “Good morning,” Rhys said, squinting into the sun. “Fine weather we’re having, huh? We got lost while camping and—”

  Dad held up his hand. “Stop talking, please. We need to get you guys out of here.”

  On the ride back to civilization, Dad explained what he’d heard from the police scanner overnight and the news early that morning. The driver of the other car woke up shortly after the crash and called an ambulance. An unidentified body was found in the truck over the cliff.

  “And the police assume the two thieves who stole the car fled the scene and they are currently on the run,” he said. “You may want to lay low for a while.”

  “Tell me, dear father. Why are you in England?”

  “Audrey invited me to her event. The last thing I expected to see when I was there was you two, necking on the dance floor,” he said. “I knew something had to be up, especially with those disguises.”

  I looked at Rhys over my shoulder, resting quietly in the back seat.

  “We have to get him to a doctor. I pulled glass out of his arm last night,” I said. “How did you find us? How did you know we’d go into the forest?”

  “Remember when you were a little girl and I used to take you fishing?”

  I nodded.

  “Half the time, you weren’t really interested. You just wanted to explore the woods. You told me once you felt safe there.” He shrugged. “It was the best place to go in this situation. Although I don’t recommend crashing an Aston Martin again. You two are lucky to be alive.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “But even this won’t stop you from doing what you do, will it?”

  “Probably not.”

  * * *

  The next day, Rhys and I got coffee at Heathrow Airport while waiting for our separate flights. Beneath his black suit jacket his arm was band
aged up and he was on more painkillers than most doctors would usually recommend.

  I bought a newspaper to read on the airplane. A big color photo of the James Bond car wreckage had made the front page. Yellow tape and police officers surrounded it.

  Rhys whimpered when he saw the photo and read the headline.

  “James Bond car stolen and destroyed.” He skimmed the article. “The car thieves are on the run… The owners are offering a reward for more information. Hopefully Audrey won’t tip them off for the cash.”

  I sipped my coffee, savoring the sweet brew. “I got a call from Audrey this morning. She is … well, let’s just say she’s not happy with either of us.”

  “Naturally.”

  “But with Tegan out of the picture—”

  “Lisa,” Rhys corrected.

  “Right. Lisa. Anyway, Audrey is down an agent. She said something about good help being hard to come by.” I rolled my eyes. “We may be in the doghouse for a while but I think it’ll be okay.”

  “Did you notice how Lisa took us somewhere else after she got that phone call? What do you think that was about?”

  I shook my head. “She may have been working with a contractor. We may never know.”

  Rhys sighed and stared off into space. I assumed it was the ample amount of morphine in his system putting him to sleep.

  “Are you alright?”

  He stared down at the table, frowning. “It’s just … I’m really upset.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Dammit, Molly,” he said, his voice serious and low. “It’s just … the car.”

  “You’re damn near crying because of that stupid car!”

  “It wasn’t stupid.” He put his nose in the air. “It was a beautiful thing. And we killed it. Molly, we killed it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Audrey told me they had more than enough insurance to cover the car.”

  “You can’t just buy another James Bond car,” he snapped, gesturing wildly. “There are a finite number of them in the world.”