JADE SUNSET - Part III

The pain was sharp, but manageable. I got to my feet. Smoke all around. White emergency lights flashed in a strobe and made me feel like I was the next item up for auction. The screams had dissipated. I needed to get out of here. Beat Renee to my car. 

Holding my ribs, I pushed through the smoke toward the rear of the venue. Squared body men were watching guard of the auction items and their bodies vibrated from the adrenaline and too many energy drinks. Bad combo. The block head that asked for my ID earlier was among the group and he had two small cases tucked under his meat hook of an arm. A lightning rod of hurt shot down my leg and I lost my balance. 

Meat hook was there to catch my fall, but he dropped his cases to do so. The Newman watches spilled to the floor. I grabbed them quickly, but my arm was snatched by his powerful paw.  

“I’ll take those,” he said. 

Slowly, I handed them over. “Was only trying to help. Thanks for keeping me on my feet.” 

He placed the Rolexes back into their cases and I slipped out the back door. Valuable time wasted. Renee was well ahead.  

Legs don’t let me down. 

Sprinting, my lungs exploded with each breath of the cool oceanside air. The four blocks to where my Chevelle was parked might as well been four miles. Quads burned. Lungs in agony like a dagger piercing them. 

Three more blocks. The pain. 

Two more. Almost there. 

One more. I sucked in the air for a final desperate sprint. The rumble of the 454 inline six roared to life. The salty air vibrated and I tasted the change on my tongue. The red taillights flashed as Renee pressed down on the brake pedal. I wanted to shout, but the cracked rib held my voice back. I needed oxygen to catch my breath.  

Renee looked over her shoulder and flashed me that charming smile. The red lipstick. The green dress. Her dark pixie haircut. In another lifetime. 

She held up the velvet case that housed the jadeite. “My father taught me how to drive on a stick.” The rear tires lit up in a ball of smoke as she floored the gas and released the clutch. 

My legs turned to cement. The necklace was gone. 

The deep throaty growl of a finely tuned engine broke through my despair. A man sat atop his Triumph checking his phone. Without a thought, I hip checked him to the curb and sped after the necklace. Or was I after Renee? 

Not wearing a helmet was only the second dumbest move of the night. Not realizing an attractive red head was Polaroid number three was the first. Damn wigs.  

The Triumph made quick work of the narrow beachside streets and I was on the rear of my Chevelle in no time. Damn it was a good-looking car. I lost the sound of the bike over the 454 and I almost got clipped as Renee ran a red light. My rib burst into a searing pain and my grip was fading on the throttle. I couldn’t keep up much longer.  

The Pacific Ocean came into view and I could see the moon bounce on top of the calm water. She made a hard left and I almost dumped the bike as I leaned hard and throttled up to bring it back upright. The pain was overtaking me and my vision blurred with the headwind. Brake lights ahead forced her to slow and I pulled alongside. It was now or never. 

One final throttle pull and I lunged for the passenger seat. I jackknifed my midsection and my toes dragged on the asphalt. My finger clipped the door handle and it came ajar. 

Renee’s voice screeched through the commotion. “Are you insane?” 

Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t. Now wasn’t the time. 

“You took something that doesn’t belong to you.” My voice strained and I thought my lung was going to burst.  

“It doesn’t belong to you.” 

She down shifted and the jolt allowed me to swing my legs over the side. I uncoiled myself in the passenger seat and cleared my vision without the invasion of ocean air. 

Her legs were exposed through the slit in her dress and I loved watching the muscles in her legs work the pedals. Any fantasy was popped when she pulled a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield from her thigh holster and pointed it at me. 

“This isn’t coming home with you?” 

“We did get off to a rocky start.” I stretched my rib and groaned to prove my point. “But, what about the necklace?” 

She went from aiming at my chest to aiming at my groin. I crossed my legs and dropped my hands. She slowed her speed and it was almost pleasant out. Minus the handgun being pointed at my boys. 

The quaint neighborhoods gave way to an empty cul de sac. The entire world seemed to have disappeared. Just me, a necklace worth twenty-seven mil, and femme fatale.  

“This is where you exit the vehicle and keep your life.” Her lips hid behind the pistol, but her message was clear. 

“You can take the jadeite. You’re not taking my car.” 

“I don’t think you’re in position to negotiate.” 

I gave her my most charming eyes. It didn’t work. 

“Get out, Mr. Kurt. I’d hate to ruin such a handsome face.” 

My charms were working. “This is going to make the chase personal, you know that? I at least gave you my real name. Unlike Maxine. What kind of name is that?” 

“The kind that makes you forget all about the blond complimenting your car.” She stroked her free hand across the dashboard. “By the time you met me as a red head, this was all but over.” 

“Fair enough. But did you have to kick me? That hurt.” I matched her stroke of the dashboard by rubbing my side.” 

“What? I tripped. Get out.” 

“Fine.” I slid backwards out of the car without turning away. “Keep the cherry bomb under 80. She gets testy when you ride her pedals that hard. 

“That’s not all I ride hard. In another lifetime. See you around.” She threw the Chevelle into first gear and took her time pulling away. Part of me wondered if she had second thoughts. 

The red paint almost faded into the night as she hit the intersection. The sound of the van slamming into the driver side of my Chevelle was delayed. Like a sniper's rifle consuming its victim before the shot is heard. 

Time froze. 

The van pushed the Chevelle up over the curb and into the beach. Sand piled up on the far side of my car while the rear wheels of the van sent brown bits of sand into the night like a rooster’s tail. I forgot about my ribs and ran over. My legs hadn’t forgiven me for the last pursuit. 

Block head from the gala had a meat hook on Renee and was dragging her down to the water. Apparently, security doesn’t like misplacing items. He was knee deep in the surf with Renee’s head pressed underneath the water. With less thought than I gave the guy on the Triumph, I barreled into the brick house and spun wildly off to the side and landed face first in the water.  

The Pacific was cold and frothed from the crashing waves. He didn’t look like he knew I even his him. He was busy grunting at Renee as her legs and arms flailed about. 

One arm held her down while the other protected his body from her wild limbs. “Nobody steals from us and gets away with it.”  

Aim for his eyes, was all I could think about. I got up and launched myself at his Minecraft head. Grabbing his ears, I bit down on his nose and he released his grip on Renee. Unfortunately, he now had a hold of me and threw me like a lawn dart. I splashed down and the searing pain of my ribs told me to stay down. Thankfully, I rattled the hornet’s nest and he pulled me to my feet. 

He punched me in the forehead and it felt like I entered another dimension. Free of time and space. I wasn’t. Before he could land another blow and put me out for good, a wave crashed and blindsided the brute. I was up. He was down. 

Where was Renee? Did she get swept out? 

The ocean roared with an angry onslaught of waves. The sound muted the world around. Brick boy was on all fours and I saw my opening. I placed a hard size eleven into his ribs and I felt the bones cave in. His screams of agony were hushed by the sea. Another kick. And another. Another. Again. One more. 

My pain was being kicked into him. He crashed my Chevelle. He drowned Renee. He wanted to drown me.  

My feet held firm to the ocean floor. I dragged him out to deeper waters. His breaths wheezed and blood bubbled out of his nose. I grabbed a rock from under the surface. Looked back at the beach and gave him one clubbing blow to the side of his head. 

A silhouette stuck out to me as the rock sealed his fate.  

Renee. She was alive.  

My legs surged forward. I fought off the rumbling white water. One hundred yards from the Chevelle and the tail lights lit up like tips of smoldering cigars. The sand clung to my wet clothes like mini anchors slowing me down. The engine roared to life and I heard the metal scrape one last time against the van. The tail lights bounced as she rejoined the pavement and disappeared around the corner until it was quiet again. 

She won. The jadeite necklace was gone. My cherry bomb Chevelle along with them. I pulled the waterlogged Polaroids from my back pocket. The images were distorted and worthless. 

It was time to leave. I stopped on my heels a few feet away from the van. There was one more treasure.  

The side door slid open with a pop. Only other sound was the ocean waves crashing in the distance. Everything was dark. The van was clean except for one thing, Paul Newman’s Rolexes. I welcomed them to their new owner and vanished into the night. 

THE END 

 <<< Part II