Page 75 of Dirty Reads

Nice addition.

I gave Seton the open cloth with the diamond in full view. “Mr. Tribideaux, forgive me. I must retire to the powder room for a moment.”

The mustache stood up. Seton stood up. I stood, grabbed my purse, and did my best to keep from running. So far, everything had gone as planned and I was as happy as a little drunken thief could be.

In my walk to the bathroom, I realized I was slightly drunker than I remembered being when I sat down. It happened to me quite frequently. From the time I stopped drinking until the time I was the drunkest seemed to be roughly two hours apart.

Once in the bathroom, I was so excited that I almost couldn’t pee. After a long wait, I finally did, and only after I was finished did I text Dick.

I opened the bathroom door slightly, made sure the coast was clear, and nonchalantly began walking toward the front door. Seton faced me, and Tribideaux had his back to me. As long as Tribideaux didn’t turn around, I knew I could make it.

I heard the unmistakable rumble of the Ferrari’s exhaust. I glanced at Seton. He nodded. Kind of. Not a conventional nod, but an unmistakable lowering of the chin. An undercover clandestine nod.

It was my cue.

I ducked behind a couple who was walking in, pushed the front door open, and peered through it. The rain had stopped, but the streets were still wet. The many colors of the neon signs from the adjoining bars reflected off of the asphalt, making the scene seem slightly romantic.

I glanced to the right. Sitting in the Ferrari fifteen feet from the door, he sat in wait.

Dick.

The beauty of our escape, the $3,500,000 diamond, the red Ferrari, outsmarting the mustache cop, it was just too much. My pussy was soaked. I was suffering from an alcohol induced sensory overload.

I glanced left. A car was on the same side of the street as Dick, thirty feet behind him. The headlights were off, but exhaust bellowed from the rear of the car.

The outline of two men was unmistakable.

And one had a mustache. Undoubtedly a cop.

I ran to the Ferrari, pulled open the door, and jumped inside. “I’ve got it!” I shouted.

“Atta girl!” Dick hollered.

I tossed my purse on the floor. “Seton’s gonna get the cash. Go!”

Dick hit the throttle, causing the car to spin out on the wet pavement. Flashing lights reflecting off of the wet street caught my attention. I spun around. The car behind us had an undercover cop light on the dash.

“There’s a cop behind us!” I shouted.

“Fucker’s been there all night,” he said.

Still peering through the back window, my eyes fell to the narrow flat space behind the seats of the car. A cage filled the space. Inside, a small leopard paced back and forth, growling.

I blinked a few times. I was drunk, but I wasn’t that drunk. “Dick there’s a spotted cat in the back.”

“Yeah, it was kind of gonna be a surprise.”

The cat stopped pacing and locked eyes with me. It was creepy. And beautiful. Reluctantly, I broke its stare.

Dick hit the gas again, and the car spun out.

“Motherfucking rain,” he snarled.

Each time the car spun out, the traction control kicked in. This would cause the car’s tires to stop spinning, and limit the engine’s power. Dick fumbled with the dash, found the button to disable it, and glanced toward me.

“Ready?”

Music to my ears.