The Liberator (A Dante Walker Novel) (Entangled Teen) by Victoria Scott Read Free Book Online Page B

I’m totally forcing it, I can’t help but fire a hand in the guy’s direction and say a weak, “Pow.”
    …
    After we land in Denver, I head toward the rental car stand. Valery texted me while I was in the air and said she’d reserved a vehicle under my name.
    The anticipation is killing me.
    I show the rental car dude my Discover card and—I swear on my mama’s soul—his nose scrunches up in revulsion. He holds the card with the tips of his fingers and types something into the computer with his other hand. Then he thrusts my card back at me. I’m surprised he doesn’t reach for a wet nap to rid his hands of my general poorness.
    “One of my guys will meet you out front,” he says without making eye contact. I shove the card back into my pocket and hold my middle finger within three inches of his face. He doesn’t look up.
    Out front, I wait with my luggage nearby, hoping beyond hope that Valery done me good. But when I see a lime-green Kia Rondo pull up around the corner, I know my hoping was in vain. I also know that somewhere out there, Red is laughing so hard she’s crying. That she’s picturing my face in her mind, wondering if now is the moment I’m seeing my ride.
    The guy behind the wheel jumps out of the driver’s side. “Dan Walker?”
    “Dante,” I correct him. “My name’s Dante.”
    He shrugs like it doesn’t matter.
    I point to the green car as he hands me the keys. “Let me guess… Eight horsepower and cloth interiors nice enough to spread any woman’s legs.”
    The guy turns and walks away. He’s an important person with important places to be. Way too important for a peon like me.
    I crawl inside my Panty Dropper and start an engine that sounds like it belongs in a Power Wheels. Then I crank the plastic stereo and head out onto the road to find my assignment, resentment boiling in my veins.
    Cruising along I-70, I expect to see mountains stretching toward the sky. But from a distance, they look more like boobs in training bras, like they’ve got a ways to go before they’re real peaks. Rolling the window down, I breathe in through my nose and smell pine. Then I roll up the freaking window, because it’s cold as balls outside. I think about what I packed and wonder if I have enough warm clothes for this kind of ungodly weather.
    Everything outside my big-timin’ car is coated in a sheet of white. As the afternoon sun shines down on it, it kind of…sparkles or whatever.
    Charlie would love this.
    I’m headed toward the address Valery texted me with pure, unfiltered excitement. I’m sure my lodging will be just as awe-inspiring as my vehicle. Though I’ve been driving for half an hour, I still don’t see the turn I’m supposed to take. And at some point, I decide I’ve gone too far. I check my rearview, wondering if I can view the exit.
    But the only thing I see is a black sedan way too close to my tail.
    I speed up, cursing the aggressive driver, but he stays with me.
    “All right, Dick Slap,” I mutter. “Let’s calm the hell down.” Tapping my brakes, I watch in the mirror to see if he gets the message.
    He doesn’t. In fact, he speeds up and gets closer to my bumper.
    Too close.
    And that’s when my frustration becomes alarm. My shoulders tense, and my mind whirls with who this could be. Gunning it, I concentrate as hard as I can but don’t sense a cuff. The only thing I do sense is Charlie at her house. I’m not sure who she’s with, or what she’s doing, but she’s there. And my gut says Valery is there, too, keeping her safe.
    Knowing this makes it a lot easier to do what I’m going to do next, which is to confront this guy.
    I punch the accelerator and head toward the next exit, throwing my signal on early enough so that if he wants to follow, he can. Sure enough, as I pull off onto the access road, I catch sight of the black sedan doing the same thing. Fine by me. Spotting that creeper, Easton, outside Charlie’s house yesterday still has me fired up.