Page 91 of Vile Bastards
“A third of the money now, a third in the middle, a third at the end. This is how I do business with you.” Bohnes’ voice is a warning, but Hype isn’t having any of it. I see now why Bohnes referred to her as discreet, talented, foul-mouthed and rude.
“You better be fucking kidding me, you ghoul-faced bastard. This isn’t like other jobs. I’m not just takin’ down some ex-boyfriend’s revenge porn from the dark web; this is real shit. I could die over this.” She growls all of this out in low tones, but her anger is evident. “Even meeting wit’ y’all is putting me in a terrible goddamn spot. I want fifty grand upfront, and I’ll take another fifty afterward. How does that sound?”
“A hundred grand?” I choke out, and then I’m looking over at Ash. He glances my way, but then he offers the slightest shake of his head.
“I’ll explain later, but my father—”
“Hah!” Hype interrupts him, pointing at Ash as if his statement is proof enough. “Exactly that! His daddy will know and then his daddy will know.” She gestures next at Alexei, obviously unaware that his father’s passed away. Although he stiffens up, he says nothing, makes no move to stand up or walk out. I’m proud of him. Maybe our, uh, interaction earlier has calmed him down a bit? We’ll call it ‘pussy therapy’. Tight and snug, like a warm, squishy hug.
Yeah. Therapy. Need to book myself into a really good therapist.
“We’re Prescott kids. Where the fuck are we supposed to get a hundred K?” Widow snaps back at her, and Basti whistles under his breath. He’d never admit it, but I think my boy bestie has a crush on my man. I’m okay with it so long as he doesn’t touch.
“That’s not my problem, is it?” The girl drags her drink closer, the long sleeves of her sweater falling over her hands and highlighting the galaxy swirl of her manicure. I haven’t yet made it down to Treasure’s—I’ve been dealing with Alexis’ shit every goddamn morning—but I need it. Seeing Hype’s nails makes me want it that much more. “I’m not risking my goddamn life for chump change. If I’m going to put my safety on the line, it has to be life-changing money.”
I have most of the money from Aspen’s race left, but even then, it was supposed to go to Evelyn’s family. Still, it’s not enough. What the fuck am I supposed to do?
“Is there another rich idiot we could get down to the track?” I muse, and Ash pauses beside me. “Could I win that much at P-Trip?”
“There’s no prize money until the end of the tournament,” Alexei murmurs from beneath his hood. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you could win it, but you won’t get it right away.”
The unspoken clause there is this: we don’t have time.
We need intel now.
“I happen to know a rich idiot,” Ash says somewhat grimly. “I’ll bring him to the track tomorrow if you want but be careful with him. He’s not quite as dumb as he looks.”
“We’ll give you seventy-five upfront, and that’s it.” It’s a risky deal, but it’s better than ponying up a hundred in total. “But only if you understand that if you don’t deliver …” I trail off and shrug my shoulders before unrolling the napkin with my silverware in it and gently fingering the knife.
“Seventy-five, and I want to race,” the girl says, and I lift a surprised look up to her face. “But I don’t have a car; I want to borrow one.”
“That, at least,” Ash begins with a heavy sigh, “I can help you out with.”
“It’s a deal?” I ask, reaching out my hand. Hype stares at it for an inordinate amount of time before reaching out to clasp hands.
“It’s a deal.”
Apparently, the idiot that Ash is bringing to the track is a guy named … “Wait, what?” I ask, turning around to look at him as he pushes his hood back so that he can stare at me. I can see a million unsaid things swirling in those ebon eyes, but they’re the sort that can only be addressed in private. That’s a luxury we don’t have at the moment, standing outside of Alexei’s safe house with my cadre of cock around us. “Chet Jr. Cody Archer? You better be fuckin’ with me.”
“Unfortunate, isn’t it?” Ash asks, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s ruthless on the track, but not particularly talented. You can beat him, but he’ll ask for something awful upfront.”
“Like pussy?” I ask, sick and fucking tired of all these rich perverts crawling into Prescott looking for girls to take advantage of. “Whatever. I’ll put it on the line and kick his ass.”
“You won’t,” Widow growls out, stepping up close behind me. His breaths fans the back of my neck, and I suppress a needy shudder. Down girl. You already got fucked once today and ended up in a three-way standoff. Don’t do this to yourself. I have a nice, thick dildo at home, some lube, a vibrator. I can take care of myself for once. “You’re not allowed to put your body on the line, not anymore.” He leans down beside me, putting that smirking mouth of his right up against my ear. “Because now, it’s my body.”
