Chapter 02.4. Abbi
633 Words
Grabbing my purse, I throw my phone in and rush to the garage. "I've never lost my wallet," I mutter, "I won't relax until it's back in my hands."
I grab a black hoodie from the coat rack, slip it on, and jump into my Red Porsche 911 Cabriolet, cruising out of the garage. I fell in love with this long and sleek car when I first saw it at the dealership last year and this model provide the same iconic 911 performance but with the added benefit of being able to retract the roof for a convertible driving experience. Anie calls it a "cockycell" with a smirk, and I can't help but chuckle at the pun. This fancy sports car set me back more than a hundred and seventy-five grand, but it's one of my rare indulgences.
I play it safe with my money, stash over half of it for the future. I ain't no genius, but I get that I won't always be king of the hill. Every job's got its highs and lows. Coming from where I did, I'm not getting cocky. Today I'm sitting pretty, but tomorrow, who knows?
I value and I'm really grateful for what I have and achieved.
It takes me another eight to ten minutes to get to the store. The time is 9:45 p.m., so I've still got a nice fifteen minutes before they shut down.
The parking lot's pretty much deserted.
Not many cars left. I see a slick black Audi Q8, a beat-up blue Toyota, and a plain gray Jeep.
I'm guessing the Audi Q8 owner's well-off, maybe a celeb, and wouldn't mind seeing another one. So, I park right next to it. Plus, it feels safer near another expensive ride.
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You'll find that people driving nice cars tend to be more considerate about not slamming their doors into your vehicle.
I yank the black hoodie over my head, slip the Mace pepper spray in my pocket (better safe than sorry), and step out of the car. I make a quick dash to the south entrance, the same spot Gusto had grabbed us before. If my wallet's not on the ground, I'll head inside and inquire with the manager of the store.
I've covered roughly ten or twelve steps in the parking lot when I pick up on some motion behind me.
Feeling my skin tingle, I spin around.
A guy, decked out in black, quietly exits the Audi Q8, dashes over to my Porsche 911, and quickly covers his face with a black ski mask.
My jaw hits the floor. Are you serious?
I'm standing there still and frozen, totally stunned, cussing my bad luck and my choice to park by the SUV. I can't do anything but watch as my car beeps, lights flashing as it unlocks, and this guy gets inside. My car. How the f**k on earth did he open my darling car?
Now, what I'm gonna tell you is hands down the dumbest thing I've ever pulled off. But hey, I can't stand to lose my beloved Porsche and my wallet too. I will f**k that guy in his ass.
Grabbing the Mace pepper spray from my hoodie pocket, I sprint back to my car, right when my car roars to life.
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"f**k you, you motherfucker. You can't. I won’t allow it, " I scream.
I rip open the passenger's side door and jump into the car right as it begins to roll forward.
He's taken aback, jerking towards me. I don't hesitate, aiming the Mace at the face of this mug. "Let's see how you take this and I hope you like hot and spicy," I mutter, pulling the trigger of the pepper spray.
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