Overdrive by Dawn Ius Page A

with Roger’s help . . . Couldn’t hurt to ask.”
    Relief drains from every muscle. Two down—one hard-ass left.
    â€œIf we’re going after a unicorn, Roger has to make it worth my while,” Nick says. “I want him to cough up some cash.”
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œOne hundred thousand dollars.”
    I blow out a breath. “Steep.”
    Nick snarls. “For a guy like Roger? That’s nothing.”
    â€œAgreed,” Mat says. “I’ve tapped enough DMV databases to recognize these are pretty high-end boosts. I can’t even wrap my head around how we’ll get our hands on Morrison’s ride.”
    â€œNo way Roger will go for this,” Chelsea says. “It’s too complicated.”
    Maybe. But Roger isn’t a simple man. My gut says he’ll agree to our terms—because beneath the veiled threats and tough-guy bravado, there’s an undercurrent of something else.
    Desperation.
    And if there’s one thing I know a little about, it’s that.
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    I find Roger in the dining room snacking on oysters and cheese. I don’t know what’s more disgusting, the smell or watching him stuff one of those slimy things in his mouth. I gag a little out loud.
    He cocks his head and motions for me to sit. Jesus, there’s even a piece of seafood caught in his mustache. I think I’m about to be sick.
    â€œHow do you eat that shit?” I find a chair far enough away that the oyster smell doesn’t ignite my gag reflex. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. We’d like to further negotiate the terms.”
    Roger runs his tongue over the top of his teeth. They shimmer like they’re coated in oyster oil. Nausea coils in my stomach.
    â€œI wasn’t aware I’d left an opening for further negotiations.” He cups his hands on the table, fingers interlaced. It’s the first time I’ve noticed the thin gold band around his skeletal ring finger. “However, you have my attention. Continue.”
    Cocky SOB.
    I quickly outline the terms. The money stuff doesn’t bother him, but he hesitates when I get to Mat’s request. He dabs his lips with a napkin. A red letter M is monogrammed into the linen. “And for yourself?”
    â€œThe deal for my sister’s lifetime support stands. She wants to dance, so that’s got to be a part of it too.”
    â€œDone.”
    My shoulders sag with relief.
    â€œI’m still waiting to hear your terms. What do you want.”
    Good question, and I’ve run out of stall tactics. I think about ballet and dance and going back to the hot lights and the stage. My toes curl into the floor until they cramp. “I’m too old for—” Roger’s face lights up with interest. I pull back. “Same deal as Nick. I want a hundred grand for the Shelby.”
    Maybe I don’t know how I’ll spend it, but it’s enough to get me and Ems out of here. Start over. Settle down. Tears prick my eyes and I bat them away before Roger can further prey on my vulnerability.
    He folds his napkin into a perfect square and sets it on the table. I hold my breath with anticipation. He pushes his chair back, stands, and extends a hand. “I accept these terms.”
    My entire body hums and a fuzzy sensation floods my head, making it hard to focus. I should be celebrating my win, but the truth is, I have a sinking feeling I’ve just sold my soul to the devil.

10
    I COVER MY MOUTH TO trap the snort of laughter. “ What is on your lip?”
    â€œPour quoi?” Nick twirls one end of his fake mustache. “Does it not give me ze illusion of sophistication?”
    I roll my eyes at his botched French accent. “Yeah, porn stars are super sophisticated. Jesus. That thing doesn’t even look real.”
    To be honest, I’m making a bigger joke out of it than necessary,