His Little Killer

Rapid Spanish started to pour from his mouth. I knew very little of the language but I understood a few key words.

Caught, police, and fuck.

"Fucking hell," he cursed and ended the call on his phone. I didn't even flinch when he threw his phone onto the concrete, shattering it into a million pieces.

"What's up your ass?" I asked and stepped over the broken glass. Kade growled and ran his hands through his unruly hair, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

"The fucking police. They found the officers on the highway. The ones that pulled us over. My clean up crew didn't make in time before the cops showed up. Fuck!" He turned around and stormed back to the RV.

This wasn't the first time the cops have been after me and I'm sure it wasn't the fist time for Kade either. It was just something you had to deal with, an annoyance at most. Probably not a threat but enough to cause a bit of chaos.

"We need to leave. Get out of Phoenix as soon as possible," Kade said as he pulled open the RV door. "I'll tell you where to drive, my guys will dispose of the RV." He then pulled out his phone and called another person. He must have resources everywhere, waiting at his beck and call. I guess that's why he's the boss.

"You need to calm the fuck down," I say and plop down on the couch as Kade sits behind Dylan, throwing out directions. He flashes me a glare,

"Calm down? Calm down! The fucking cops are after us now because of your stupid fucking mistakes. What are you, a rookie?" I bit back a smile at his accusations. It was comical, really. "Why the hell are you smiling?"

"You call me the rookie when you've obviously haven't dealt with the cops before. Calm down. We don't have a fucking trail. All we need to do is get rid of this fugly P.O.S and get something more inconspicuous."

"Fuck yes," I gasp and run my hand over the shiny red paint job on the convertible in front of me. I wiped my mouth, praying that I hadn't drooled a bit.

"We can't get this thing," Kade muttered beside me.

"What do you mean? It's a Ford Thunderbird, here and ready for the taking!" Dylan said beside him, clearly obsessed like me. It's not a newer model so I'd be able to hotwire it without the alarm going off.

"Shouldn't we find something more reliable. Like a car with a roof for those rare occasions where we are in a car chase."

"Don't be such a pussy, Kade. Come on," I waved Dylan over. "You're the king at picking locks, right? Open the door," Kade rolled his eyes before kneeling down by the car door. In a matter of seconds he has the door open, pushing Dylan inside to hotwire it.

The Thunderbird roared to life before us. On the inside I jumped with joy, eager to get my hands on the steering wheel. I grabbed Dylan by his flannel and pulled him out of the car, quickly taking his spot.

"You're not driving," Kade said and dipped down beside.

"Well, you're obviously not driving. You don't even have a fucking license. Besides, you don't have much of a say, I'm already seated." I didn't have to ask Dylan twice as he hopped over the side and into the backseat.

"Wait! Wait, don't get in yet," He said and pointed at Kade. The former grumbled something under his breath before urging Dylan to continue. "Get in loser, we're going-," Before he could finish, Kade had a knife to Dylan's neck.

"Finish that and you die," He growled before opening the passenger side and sliding in. Jesus, I didn't even like the kid but all he wanted to do was make a movie reference.