46

Chapter 46: Forty-six, My Horse Rides a Thief Slip

The Next Day

Locke woke up feeling refreshed.

One of the headaches caused by the New York Brotherhood's downfall had finally been resolved.

As for the rest of SHIELD?

Again.

They dared disrupt Locke's life; Locke dared to make sure they didn't have one.

The same thing happened days ago.

Locke drove his R8, passed Gwen's house, then headed toward Midtown High School after Gwen left.

"Yo."

The school parking lot, deserted for days, saw Kem, who'd dashed to Las Vegas for a game. He blinked at Locke. "Heard you got a new car again. Did you buy it yourself?"

Kem already knew about Locke's kidnapping but still texted his concern.

Locke grinned. "Long time no see, Kem. Insurance covered it."

Kem shot back, "Haven't you canceled the policy yet?"

Locke: "..."

Perfect.

Kem decided Paris was his destiny based on words alone. If he lacked courage, Locke would pack him off to Paris to taste life's hardships.

Locke thought it, but smiled, saying, "Unfortunately not. They told me, if my car's borrowed by another killer, let them know for fast, three-hour payout."

Kem gaped at Gwen, his best friend. "Really?"

Gwen shook her head.

Obviously.

In the New York "Fast and Furious," insurance firms and Audi outpaced Maserati and Raptor.

Locke investigated. Audi sales soared 50% in NYC since.

Most New Yorkers still adored individualism unless troubles landed on their heads. Cool sunglass-wearing killers were superheroes to some.

Nonsense.

In the corridor.

Gwen opened his locker, eyed classmates, asking Liz, "What's up? You seem down."

Liz, a ninth grader, rolled her eyes. "We've got a Canadian exchange student at home. Heard?"

Gwen nodded. "Saw them yesterday."

Liz sighed, closing her locker listlessly. "Wait till you know why I'm dying."

She left.

Locke grabbed his morning book, asking Gwen, "Seen that exchange student?"

Leeds mentioned transfers; Locke thought of Callum, moving fast.

He picked up his kids abroad last night, enrolling them today.

Gwen nodded. "Not yet. I visited the office, but as a student assistant, I hear."

Locke nodded.

Gwen's assistant role was a plus.

Damn.

Study for college cash, work hard.

Locke eyed Gwen. "Thought about joining a club?"

Gwen nodded. "Yeah. Colleges like it. What're you into?"

"Horse riding."

"..."

Locke smirked, making a cowboy hat. "Slick on a horse, Texas Junior Cowboy champ."

Also, Texas Hot Dog King.

No choice.

Texas sparse, tasks in the system—compete, make money.

Locke's grind.

Salted fish in reality; New York, no third tenacity talent. Basic skill.

Gwen quiet. "No cowboy club, singing and dancing, maybe?"

Sing?

Dance?

Locke waved off. "Nope."

Rather die than perform.

Gwen pondered. No hobby matched Locke. Walking to class, Gwen asked, "Texas clubs?"

"Cowboy. I'm horse riding a thief!"

"...But cowboys."

"Uh…"

Locke serious, "In Texas, riding a thief's a cowboy. Nothing more needed."

Gwen: "..."

If older, Texas bars host Locke.

Lone Star Beer wants endorsement.

Unsuitable, Lone Star fears suits, withdraws.

"…But…"

Locke seated, "Lone Star, age twenty-one, first cowboy, five-year endorsement."

Gwen—horse, spiky trousers, beard, hat, Locke, Lone Star.

Fantasy.

Gwen shook, Locke serious, "New York, not Texas. Cowboys're passé."

Fact.

Texas's top cowboys go military, become snipers.

Class talk ebbed, hushed as eyes met.

Teacher.