Chapter 9 #5
“Put your seat belt on, please,” I instruct, relieved when he does it quickly. Not that I think it would save him if we were to wreck at this speed. It’s all up to me and my driving to keep my lover alive. “Damn, I’m impressed. You aren’t even going to wash your hands when we get to the track?”
“I will not,” he declares, playing with the leather fingertips of his very expensive gloves.
I can’t decide if I prefer the luxe leather or the cheap latex, so I’m glad he’s switching between both.
We can play this game forever. Marie, the emo boy with the snap of his angry latex glove against his wrist. Alexei, the mob boss’ nephew, next in line for the family throne in his designer calfskin gloves.
I get some gum out of my purse and pop in a piece, offering the package out to Alexei.
“Gum is not a habit I care to indulge in,” is what he says, and I laugh because he’s so aristocratic and weird.
I wouldn’t think I’d be into it, but I am.
Alexei is smart and he executes his desires in cold blood.
It was him who shot Ernest’s son in the head, no hesitation.
These quirks only add to the violent creature living beneath his pretty skin.
“Huh.” I take another piece for myself. Oooh, I know what I need to do: get a random receipt out of my purse and wad the gum up in it.
Drop it back in my purse and toss it around, make things sticky.
Alexei would lose his goddamn mind and probably get hard because of it, too.
I save that flirtation for later. We’re having plenty of sex as it is. “Want to make a bet with me?”
“A bet?” Alexei asks, intrigued. He didn’t expect me to say that. He’s running his finger in a ring inside my cupholder, lifting it up for inspection and frowning because it’s so perfectly clean.
“My girls detail the Devil regularly for me, by the way. They would never leave crumbs or shit in the cupholder—not even when I eat Wesley’s fries in here and totally trash it.” I toss my hair and hit Alexei in the face with it. His reaction is to rub the fingers of his gloves against his palms.
“The cleaning is impeccable,” he agrees, and he doesn’t change his gloves despite touching the cupholder. I consider that an endorsement of my crew. “But don’t change the subject, darling. What purpose would a bet serve between us?”
I roll my eyes, smacking my gum for emphasis and making Alexei cringe.
“There’s something I really want from you, and this is the only way for me to get it.” I play with the radio volume, realizing belatedly that I’m nervous to be alone with Alexei.
Not scared-nervous, obviously. Just…young-love-nervous. Bats in my belly, fluttering excitedly. It’s literally so disgusting that I want to throw up. I make myself swallow my gum instead and one-hundred-percent I’m never taking off these shades.
“Are you certain about that?” Alexei asks, and it’s crazy how hungry he sounds.
He wants me again. I shift weirdly on my seat.
“Why don’t you tell me what you want, and then we’ll see if that’s true.
” He touches his fingers to his chin, briefly unconcerned with contamination. Can he smell me through the glove?
I get chills.
My hands tighten around the wheel with a squeak.
“I want you to let Ash cook for you.” I squeeze my hands even harder, until my knuckles ache. And I keep holding on. “I want you to eat his food.”
Alexei turns a vampiric shade of pale.
“What is the bet you’re looking to make?”
“You agreed that the longer we take to get Chet and Jonas, the more dangerous they become. What if I pick a day and nail their balls to the wall by then? You can pick a day, too, and whoever is closest wins.”
“Why would I agree to that?” he replies nervously, his voice as exsanguinated as his face. “Knowing the way our minds work, we’ll probably agree on the day. No, a bet like that, I won’t agree to.”
I wet my lips.
“Ah.”
Another strained silence.
“I will…for you, I…” Alexei puts his hand over his mouth, like he’s trying to stop himself from throwing up.
I can relate. “Scarlett, if you ever want something from me, please ask. I will break my own spine to bend over backwards for you, so long as the request is sensible. This is sensible. I’ll…
attempt to eat the food he prepares. It may take some time for me to get used to it though. ”
Just like that? Why?
I’m stunned.
“Well. Uh. Thanks.” I scratch at my temple with a perfectly manicured fingernail.
“You’re sort of…awesome.” I can tell that he’s staring at me, as twisted up as I am.
“The sex stuff is so easy; this is the hard shit. I don’t know what to say except the obvious: you’ll thank yourself later.
Eating meals made by Ash is way better than forcing instant oatmeal down your throat every morning. ”
“You don’t have to fight me at every turn, you know.
” Alexei turns to the windshield, watching the gray ribbon of the road unfurling ahead of us.
“I’m rather reasonable, especially when working with other reasonable people.
I will cook with Ash. I will clean with Ash.
If he needs to make adjustments to what he’s doing, I imagine he won’t mind. ”
“Just keep doing what I say. I’m a spider, Alexei. You guys are my web. Just hold it down for me, okay? The prey and also Ash’s food. Don’t puke it up or you’ll hurt his feelings.”
Alexei shudders violently and closes his eyes.
“If you were willing to make a bet, then you must have a plan in mind.”
He’s not asking a question. That’s a statement. Of course I do.
“Do you think Burt would take that bet?” I wonder aloud, dreaming of his mobster car, that beautiful Facel Vega Excellence.
It’s like a hearse with fangs who sunk its metal teeth into an old Caddy and drank its blood to form an interior, then spit out the bones with unhinged reptile jaws that it dares to call suicide doors to shape its rims. I want it.
I deserve nice things. Burt could kill my entire family and not lose any sleep over it.
“Because I really want to steal his car.”
“Burt likes a good deal, and he’d probably assume you’d lose. We’d have to put quite a bit of capital on the line, but if you’re that confident…”
“I only ever agree to a race when I’m confident. And Marie? I’m always confident.”