Overdrive by Dawn Ius

few warehouses.”
    â€œDon’t be so modest,” Mat says. “You could probably win the Olympics of lock picking, chica .”
    Chelsea’s eyes widen. “Wait, I could compete?”
    Frustration gnaws away at me. A lock picker, a computer hacker, and a booster. Tight team, and I haven’t even gotten to Nick. I jab him in the chest. “Let me guess, you’re the muscle?”
    His eyebrows arch. “Car thief,” he says. He flicks his lip piercing with his tongue and smirks. “That’s right, princess. You and I are the same. Except I don’t come with my own street name . . .”
    A cold sweat breaks out along the nape of my neck. I squeeze my eyes closed to block Nick’s voice, silently begging him to shut up, to just shut the fuck up. But of course he doesn’t and before I can interject, the word Ghost oozes from his lips like a contagious disease.
    Mat grins. “Spooky.”
    â€œShe’s a fucking legend,” Nick says. “What is it, Jules, forty cars?”
    Again, forty-three, but who’s counting?
    Mat lets out a low whistle.
    â€œEnough,” Roger says. “Now that we’ve laid our cards on the table—”
    I’m mad enough to blow a gasket. “Not all of us.”
    Roger leans forward and sets his clasped hands on the table. “Further to my proposition. The Trophy Case is missing seven cars. And I need them.”
    Mat shifts a little in his seat. “So buy them. It’s not like you don’t have the money.”
    Roger grimaces. “Unfortunately, these vehicles are not for sale.”
    Everyone’s being so nonchalant, it makes my blood curdle. Don’t they all see how fucked we are? Roger is a pillar of the community. A damn saint.
    My patience snaps. “What’s in it for us?” All eyes land on me and I shrug. I’ve had enough of the veiled kindness and underlying threats. We’re just spinning our wheels here. “What? He’s obviously got a plan.”
    â€œIf you’re successful in obtaining—”
    â€œStealing.”
    Roger glosses over it. “—all of the cars, then you may consider my home yours for as long as you wish.”
    â€œThat’s very generous of you,” Chelsea says.
    I shoot her a glare. “Are you kidding me?”
    â€œWell, it is.”
    Mat silences my response with a look. “Let him finish.”
    â€œIf you choose to move out, your basic needs—housing, education, et cetera—will be taken care of. Indefinitely.” His eyes meet mine. “That includes Emma.”
    My throat clogs up like I’m guzzling motor oil. No way in hell he’s dragging my sister into this.
    â€œI know you’re frustrated,” Roger says to me.
    â€œTry pissed.”
    He spreads his thumbs wide in acknowledgment. “Fine. But if you look at it as a business transaction . . .”
    Chelsea picks at a piece of lint on her shirt and flicks it onto the floor. “Why not just hire a couple of thugs?”
    â€œI’m afraid that route didn’t pan out for me,” he says. “And each of you was selected for a particular skill set.”
    Not to mention the convenient cover of housing a crew of orphans. I can’t hold back a snort of disgust. “Are we supposed to take that as a compliment?” My eyes flick back to the RX and my temper spikes. Good. Anger keeps me on my toes. I get stupid when I go soft. “News flash: Blackmailing us isn’t cool. It’s sick.”
    It’s also kind of genius.
    Roger scans each of our faces. “Do you all feel this way?” After a brief silence, he blows out a deep breath. “I see.” He unhooks his fingers and lays his palms flat on the table. “I’m really not a bad man. Of course, you can reject my offer—without consequence.”
    I scoff. “Funny how you give us the illusion of