Black Betty

Highly recommended? Try insisted upon, and all she had to show for it was a cherry red Charger, the sort of car that doesn’t speak, doesn’t purr. No, a car like that can do nothing more than growl and snarl, eat up distance like a whore eats cock.

The only thing Madion ever had to show for herself was her life and the way she lived it, the way she flipped it the bird before laying down smoke and rubber. It was in her mouth and her eyes, in the tattoos she’d scarred herself with, sharks devouring her alive. The world was never ready for her, and she was never willing to wait for it. There was nothing Madion wasn’t willing to do once and if it didn’t meet her fancy, well boofuckinghoo.

Madion lived life by her own rules and no one elses.

Which was why she’d come here, gone there, and destroyed everything in between. No one had ever been quite good enough, smart enough – and most of all?

No one had ever been fast enough. No one could keep up with her. Not then, and not now, in the middle of the night, in a warehouse full of prize after prize, dozens of cars worth more in money than most people could even dream about, much less have.

And at that moment, there was guns blazing, shell casings falling to the ground with enough speed to write a song she’d heard a hundred times.

They’d come in the middle of the night, come to kill her and get rid of the bitch that’d fucked everything up. Some bitch, moving in on their turf? No way. Not going to happen.

And while the shells were singing, the car doors were dinging, Madion considered all of it with a brief look of remorse. She’d really liked all of those cars – stole those damn things fair and square.

Tiny braids, little plaits of love, they swung in the breeze as she looked down in the detonator in her hand, where she stood a good hundred yards away from the warehouse, listening to the ringing, singing, slow dying deaths of her collection, cars that she’d swiped, swindled, stole to get.

As much as she loved them all – and she did, loved them like she would a good fuck – she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she jammed her thumb down on the button.

Because for as much as Madion loved a car? She loved a sharp point even more.