An Eye For An Eye (Fast & Furious | Hobbs/OFC)

Chapter 16

"I'm here. If that's not good enough for you, I don't care. I'm done for the day."

She sounded exasperated. Annoyed. Clearly Hobbs hadn't learned from the last time he'd pushed her buttons. Whatever had happened between them, it was enough for cracks to show in Elizabeth's facade.

"You have a job, so turn around and—"

"I said I'm done!"

A car door was slammed shut. Owen craned his neck as if to look but all he could see was the soles of Hobbs' boots. The lift took a good minute and a half to go from the warehouse floor to ground level. The hydraulics were slow but powerful and gave him time to listen further without detection.

"I'll be here tomorrow morning, bright and early, alright?" Elizabeth said. "In the meantime, all complaints can be lodged by shoving them up your arse."

Once the gap between the lift and the outside was closed, Owen walked towards the Marussia B2. Elizabeth sat in the driver's seat, fists clenched around the steering wheel, while the Fed stood at door's length from the SUV, out of striking range. Interesting. "Is there a problem, Hobbs?"

"Go back to your computer, Scarface," Luke snapped. He wasn't going to tolerate anymore of their bullshit, no matter who it came from. The clock hadn't even struck midday and here Elizabeth was shirking her duties already despite how much work there was to be done. "The adults are having a conversation."

"A conversation which involves you harassing my sister.

"Fuck off, Owen!" She didn't need him or his inflated sense of self worth coming to the rescue, let alone Hobbs' determination to see the job done dragging her back into the warehouse. What she needed was some breathing space and time to clear her head. Better yet, an open gate and directions back to Los Angeles. The more distance she put between them, the better.

Owen looked at Beth as if stunned. There was a bite of anger in her voice, frustration in her eyes. She and Hobbs had come from the same section of the warehouse, and here they were again, together . . . If she'd already talked her way into Hobbs' pants, he needed to know. The decision was a little premature in Owen's opinion but he couldn't blame her for getting it over and done with. Hobbs was about as useful as any two-bit government hack could be said to be.

In the seconds it took Elizabeth to start the car, put the stick in drive and pull away, Hobbs closed the gap and climbed onto the metal step, gripping the roof rack with both hands. The SUV gained speed once she reached the road and followed it northeast towards the motel, leaving Owen to stand there and gawk. The entire time, Luke fought to maintain his balance, wondering if she was going to suddenly swerve the car to shake him off.

She didn't.

Neither did the speedometer rise above forty as she drove. Shaw never glanced back at him but Luke was certain she had to have seen him in the side mirror. It wasn't easy to miss a tall muscled brown man clinging to your car, nor was he in a position to conceal his presence. The streets to either side of them went unnoticed while Luke concentrated on keeping a tight grip. His palms were sweaty, arms and legs beginning to ache after the first few minutes.

Finally, the SUV slowed upon reaching the motel parking lot, presumably so Shaw could read the numbers on the doors. A few feet from the end of the bitumen, she parked parallel to her room. Luke stepped off the car, landing on the ground with a thud. He rolled his shoulders, easing the kinks from his hands and arms.

"Alright, woman," Hobbs began when the driver's door was pushed open, "you want to tell me just what the hell that was?"

Hattie, he understood. She was Miss Independent, the lone wolf more than willing to do whatever was necessary, including putting her head on the chopping block. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was his worst nightmare. She had a violent streak, a certain way with words, and a penchant for causing him problems. Worst of all, she was a survivor fighting tooth and nail to stay alive.