Fighting to be Free by Kirsty Moseley (35 page)

BOOK: Fighting to be Free by Kirsty Moseley
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We were down to our last two cars now. Vincent drove to the location; Terry was sat in the back, still gushing about the Harley Davidson he’d just driven back to the warehouse. We were on our last two boosts now. Terry was taking the sleek little red Mazda that we were stopped next to, and then Vincent was driving me on to the last boost of the night, the Aston Martin DB9.

I hopped out when he stopped the car, heading over to the Mazda, sliding in the bar and popping the lock quickly. I pulled the door open and leant in, disabling the alarm and immobiliser before climbing in and sparking the wires to start it up. I pulled out, closing the door as I drove down the road, and pulled up a few streets away to swap with Terry. He skipped to the car, slapping me on the shoulder on the way past, grinning happily. He definitely enjoyed cars, that’s for sure.

As I slid back into the seat of Vincent’s Porsche Boxter, he grinned. “I’m hungry. You hungry? After I drop you off I think I might stop for some chicken or something. Want me to get you something?” he offered, fiddling with his radio to find some rap station.

“It’s three thirty in the morning,” I countered, looking at him like he was crazy.

He shrugged unashamedly and rubbed his stomach. “When a boy’s gotta eat, he’s gotta eat.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Nah, I’m all good thanks.” He didn’t reply, just mouthed the words to the Missy Elliot song and bobbed his head to the beat. I couldn’t help but laugh at him but he didn’t seem to care.

Ten minutes later and we pulled up at the last car of the night. “Can’t believe we pulled off this boost. This was awesome and definitely one for my memoirs,” he joked.

“Yeah, we make a pretty good team,” I agreed as I stepped out of the car and into the cold night air.

“See you at the warehouse.”

He nodded. “I’m gonna stop and get food. You sure I can’t tempt you with some greasy bird?” he offered, waggling his eyebrows.

I grinned and shook my head. “No thanks, man. See ya in a bit.” I skipped off to the car, excited to get the job done. As much as loved the high, I was tired now. This had been a seriously long night and all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and not get up until Monday - that wouldn’t happen though, I had Ellie’s birthday tomorrow. The thought of my little girl brought an instant smile to my face as I set to work on my last car. Dodger waited until I had the car started, then he turned and headed in the direction of the high-street - probably to fill his face with grease.

As I drove down the road, heading towards the warehouse, my cell phone started ringing. I dug it out of my pocket, holding it to my ear with my shoulder. “What?” I asked, not really in the mood for pleasantries, I just wanted to get this job done and get home to my bed now; my eyes were starting to sting from the lack of sleep.

“Kid, what time is Terry back with the Mazda? I need to get it loaded onto container three, then it’s good to go,” Ray asked.

I frowned. I’d given the car to Terry over half an hour ago, he should definitely be done by now.

“He’s not back?”

“Back? No. I assumed you two were still picking it up,” he replied.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. Terry left before I went to go pick up this car, he should have been back ages ago! “I’ll call him and see what the hold-up is,” I suggested, disconnecting the call and not waiting for him to answer. I dialled Terry’s cell number and just waited, listening to the ring of the other line. When it rang off, I frowned and dialled again. “Come on, what are you doing?” I muttered, slowing my speed and listening to the ring again.

When he didn’t answer, I disconnected and threw my cell phone onto the seat next to me, pulling over and turning the wheel hard, doing a U-turn and heading back the way I came. It had been a while since I left him but I knew which route he would have took back to the warehouse.

I tried not to speed down the streets but my foot felt kind of heavy so I was definitely going faster than I should. After about ten minutes of fast driving, I felt the breath catch in my throat as I saw flashing lights up ahead. I pulled up about a hundred yards away from it and I groaned as I took in the scene before me. The beautiful car that I’d boosted less than an hour ago was a total wreck.

Another car had hit it from behind, practically lifting the little red Mazda up off of the ground so that its back end was perched up on the hood of the other car.

There was glass everywhere, metal twisted at odd angels. The little sports car’s back end was smashed up beyond recognition. Emergency vehicles were parked around, lights flashing. A fireman was busy cutting the doors off of the other car, obviously someone was trapped inside. There was no sign of Terry anywhere.

FUCK!

My eyes flitted around quickly, trying to see where he was. He needed to get the hell out of there, it wouldn’t be long before someone ran the plates on the car and realised that the freaking thing was stolen! Damn it, we were screwed.

Someone tapped on my window making me jump. I gulped as I turned towards the window, seeing a highway patrolman standing there, smiling. I silently wondered if I should just floor the accelerator and drive off. But the smile on the guys face wasn’t accusing or anything like that - he didn’t look like he knew I was sitting there in three hundred thousand pounds of stolen sports car. I forced myself to remain calm as I pressed the button to roll the window down.

He leant on the frame, his eyes flicking over the car appreciatively. “Hi there. Sorry, I can’t let you through; there’s been an accident up ahead. We’re diverting traffic off down another street,” he said, smiling apologetically.

I nodded, trying to keep my heart under control when all I wanted to do was scream Terry’s name so I could find him and get him the hell out of here before they started running plates and stuff on the cars. If Terry got arrested then they could look into who he worked for, who he worked with……we could all be screwed tonight if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. Damn it!

“Yeah, it looks bad. Are the drivers okay?” I asked, nodding at the wreck, my hands tightening on the wheel praying he would say that Terry was missing or something.
Hit and run, hit and run, hit
and run.
I chanted it over and over in my head, praying for the words to leave his mouth, they didn’t though.

He nodded grimly. “The driver of the front vehicle isn’t too bad, concussion and seatbelt damage I would imagine. He’s with the medics right now, on the way to the hospital. The other driver is okay I think, they just can’t get her out because the door jambs are bent. They should both be okay though,” he replied, smiling as my heart sank. Terry was with medics, injured, on his way to the hospital and then he’d be questioned by police……

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked, noticing how my voice wavered as I spoke, hopefully the guy wouldn’t notice. He seemed to preoccupied with watching the firemen work though, so I think I was catching a break tonight, well, for a short time at least, until Terry spilled that I was in charge of the boost and then I’d be back inside, never to see Ellie’s beautiful face again.

“No thank you, Sir. We’ve got everything under control,” he assured me.

My mind was whirling with what needed to happen now. I needed to get the hell away from here and call Brett and tell him about what had happened. He’d call around until he found Terry in hospital, then, depending on how much he liked him, he’d either order a hit on him so that he couldn’t incriminate everyone else, or he’d get him a damn good lawyer and get him out of there within a couple of days. It depended on how much Brett trusted Terry to go down without taking everyone else down with him.

“Well, I’d better let you get back to it,” I suggested, forcing a smile.

He stepped back, patting on the frame of the door. “You have a good night, Sir.” I nodded and put the car into drive, turning slowly, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I drove down the road, knowing that Brett was going to go crazy when I told him. Why did this have to happen tonight? We were home free now, just Terry’s car and then mine and we would have been finished. Why did this have to happen to Terry too, he was experienced with this type of thing, sure he wasn’t that good at the actual boost but he didn’t take risks with the car, he drove at the right speed, stopped at stop lights. This was a fucking nightmare.

I didn’t stop as I pulled out my cell phone, calling Brett’s number, my eyes flicking in my rear-view mirror every couple of seconds to make sure I wasn’t being followed. Brett answered almost immediately. “Alright, Kid? Nearly back?”

I took a deep breath before I spoke. “Slight problem,” I admitted. “Terry’s been in a wreck, the car’s totalled and he’s on his way to the hospital in an ambulance.”

I winced as the string of expletives that he let rip, rang in my ears. After a full thirty seconds of shouting words that would make Ellie blush that adorable shade of red, he finally calmed down enough to talk to me. “Where are you?”

“On my way back. I have the Aston, do you want me to come to the warehouse, or are you gonna have the transporter meet me somewhere else just in case?” I asked, not wanting to lead the police back to Brett in case they were following me.

He sighed. “I’ll have them come to you. Go to the secondary location and someone will be there to meet you and take the car off of your hands,” he agreed. “Kid, you think Terry will keep his mouth shut?” he asked suddenly.

I sighed and shrugged, I honestly didn’t know the answer to that question. “You know him better than me, Brett.”

He was silent for a minute, obviously thinking through his two options. I kept my eyes on the road, turning off and heading out of town to our prearranged secondary exchange point. We always had a back-up plan in case things like this happened; the warehouse was out of bounds when there was any type of heat around. The streets were still deserted; it was almost four in the morning. Terry was so unlucky to have been hit by someone at this time of night; they were probably the only two people on the road or something.

“Alright, look, just go to the second drop-off point and I’ll have someone meet you there. Call me when you get there,” he stated, disconnecting the call, he probably had more important people to talk to than me - like either the hit man for Terry, or his lawyer.

I headed out of town. Pulling up at the field where we usually convened if something went wrong.

I’d only been to this place once before when a boost had gone wrong. Turning off the engine, I sat there in the dark, praying that this didn’t come back on me. This was just my luck, I was going straight and now Terry was probably going to drop me in it again. Something like this would breech my parole; I would be back inside for even being connected to this probably.

I called Brett. “Hey, I’m here,” I muttered.

“Good. They’ll be there soon. Ray’s bringing your truck. Kid, I’m gonna get Terry a lawyer and everything will be fine. He’s a loyal worker, I have every faith that it’ll go smoothly. I have people inside, he’ll be out quickly. But just in case, you need to get yourself an alibi. Something strong.

Make sure it’s not connected to work or me in anyway. Call that hot little girl of yours that you’re always bragging about.”

I gulped as dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Ellie. I was going to have to bring Ellie into this?

“Seriously? Can’t you fit me up with an alibi or something?” I asked hopefully.

He sighed. “You know how this works, Kid. Just get yourself an alibi and lay low for a couple of days. I’ll sort everything but the further you stay away from everyone here, the better for you. You need to think of your parole right now, okay?”

My jaw tightened. I knew he was right but I hated the thought of Ellie being anywhere near anything illegal - but I had no one else. My life sucked, it really was pathetic.

I slammed my forehead down on the steering wheel and closed my eyes, running through everyone that was in my life to see if they could give me an alibi instead of Ellie. I even debated on going to my mother for help, but she wouldn’t help me anyway, she had no compassion or sense of loyalty.

Ten minutes later, a transporter truck pulled in to the field. I sat in the car until it stopped in front of me, a guy jumping out and letting down the tail ramp so I could drive it on. When the car was settled inside I hopped out, leaving the keys in the ignition and trudged out. I was kind of hoping for a meteor to fall from the sky and blast me into oblivion at that moment, which would definitely be preferable to having to tell Ellie the truth and beg for her help.

Ray had pulled up in my truck and was standing against the hood with his arms crossed, a hard expression on his face. The other car that was in the field was the sleek looking dark blue Porsche Boxster, sitting next to my beat up old rusty truck, Dodger was sitting behind the wheel. I nodded in acknowledgement and he smiled in return. He was actually a really good guy, I wouldn’t have been able to do tonight without him, he was definitely good at his job and I’d be recommending to Brett that he get him in his employment when my time was up with him. They’d work well together.

I headed over to Ray and shook my head. “This is all shit!” I grunted.

He nodded and held out a brown envelope, probably full of my fee for the night, plus extra cash because of the size of the job. “Yep it is. You gonna be okay? Who you calling?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

I sighed and closed my eyes, not wanting to say it out loud. “Ellie I guess.”

He gripped my shoulder, squeezing supportively. “If she’s as awesome as you always claim she is, then everything will be fine,” he reassured.

I nodded, flicking my eyes to Dodger again. “You need a ride?” I asked, looking back at Ray.

He shook his head. “No. Boss said you need to get your alibi sorted quickly, so go do that now.

Dodger will give me a ride,” Ray answered. The transporter pulled away, waving a hand at Ray as he left. “If for whatever reason she doesn’t want to do it, then call me. I have a slutty cousin, you could probably pay her to say that you spent the night with her,” he suggested.

BOOK: Fighting to be Free by Kirsty Moseley
3.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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