AN: I'm so glad you guys have found this story and you're enjoying it. Hope you like the new chapter.

Four

Des and Grey drove for a little while in the Blazer. They drove through town, down crowded streets with stoplights, and even down the freeway for a bit. They drove for probably a half an hour before they made it back to the dealership. Des liked the truck. She liked it a lot, actually, but she wasn't foolish enough to think it was worth much.

She and Grey approached the smiling dealer. She could feel Grey's disapproval with her selection, and he wasn't wrong, but while driving, Des never felt the transmission slip and she didn't hear any random knocks or taps. As far as she could tell, the engine and transmission had some time before they crapped out, which was helpful because Des knew she couldn't afford much in the ways of a vehicle and the rental was draining her cash.

"How much?" She asked him when the distance between them was minimal.

"For you?" He feigned mulling over a figure in his head. "Two thousand."

Both Grey and Des let out a scoff almost the same instant.

"Rip off." Grey said. Des agreed.

"Bullshit," She told the dealer so bluntly that he actually seemed surprised. "How long's that been on the lot, a week? Maybe two?"

He nodded slightly and shrugged a bit which told her that it might have been even less. Given how it looked, she knew it couldn't have been long. No dealership, not even one as cheap as the place she found herself in, would try to sell a vehicle that looked so terrible. That was the thing with dealerships. They do their best to make a vehicle look perfect even if it wasn't and that Blazer looked like hell.

"So you would still have to pour a grand, maybe fifteen-hundred into it for a half-decent paintjob, replace the windshield which'll cost another couple hundred dollars, and the tires are damn-near bald." She told him. "But, if I take it now, you expect me to pay you two grand, then put another few grand into it? Basically, you're trying to sell me a thirty-five year-old truck with the original transmission and engine, which by the way would cost me even more to fix later on, for five thousand dollars. Is that right?"

The dealer looked at her with a slightly blank, slightly worried expression. But out of the corner of her eye, Des could see Grey stifling a smile, trying (and failing) to hide it in his beard.

"That truck is worth less than a thousand dollars, and you know it." She said to him.

The dealer's eyes darted to the truck. He was doing the math that she'd so plainly done for him already. She wasn't lying. Just to make it look presentable enough to be on the lot, they'd have to at least paint it, and that would likely cost the same as the truck's entire value.

"Maybe," He met her gaze again, "I can let it go for fifteen hundred."

Des's face twisted into disbelief. "I don't think so. If you want that thing gone before you have to dump more cash into it, you're going to have to drop it under a thousand."

"I can do one thou-"

"Under," Des said sharply.

The dealer's patience was growing thin and his agitation became more prominent. She could tell he didn't like her, and that was fine because she didn't like him either. Hopefully, she could simply play on his greed. Small dealerships especially didn't like to spend money unless needed.

"Why don't you tell me what you think is fair?" He asked tightly.

"Five hundred."

His shock was immediate. "No way. A thousand dollars, that's as low as I can go."

Des scoffed and shook her head. "Good luck then."

She turned with Grey at her side and made it only a few steps before the dealer called back to her.

"Wait, wait, wait." He said, forcing them to pause. Des turned to him. With clear frustration, he said, "Eight hundred."

Des thought on it briefly before she nodded. "Eight hundred."

The dealer led the way, and Grey and Des followed him inside. Des could tell Grey still didn't support her decision, but it didn't bother her. She just needed something to drive.

The pair made it to Bad Alibi little more than an hour after they left.

"I can't believe you bought this thing." Grey said as Des pulled into a parking spot. "You know it's going to break down all the time and I'm going to have to fix it just like I do with your sister's Mustang."

She threw the truck into park and gave him a sarcastic stare. "Dex makes you fix that piece of shit?"

"Isn't this kind of a pot-kettle situation?" He teased.

"Fair enough." Des smiled. "But nah, you won't. I can do the maintenance myself and anything big'll go to a shop. But hey, play your cards right and maybe I'll let you change my oil anyway."

Grey scoffed and shook his head while Des brandished a wide, uninhibited smile.

"Look, no payments, and insurance will be next to nothing. That coupled with no rent, and my expenses are almost nonexistent."

He eyed her curiously. "You don't strike me as the kind of person that counts pennies."

Her smile faltered slightly and Grey knew immediately that maybe his little joke wasn't much of one.

"Well, I'm kind of a fuck up." She said bluntly, much to his surprise. "And Dex went through a lot when we were growin' up, taking care of me and my messes so, while I'm here at least, I'm going to try and help out. The lower I can keep my own costs, the more I can give to her and Ansel."

He thought her answer was sweet, the way she wanted to help her siblings, but he didn't think she could have been that bad. Dex might not have told him much about her little sister, but what she had said didn't lead him to believe she was a one-woman hurricane. Then again, he'd only known the younger Parios for a week.

"So, you're going to try and stay on her good side or something?" He asked with a smile.

"I'll try, but it won't last long." She chuckled. "I mean, it'll probably piss her off when I sleep with you."

"Wait, what?"

Grey's brain genuinely stopped working for a moment. The statement was so utterly random that it, on its own, would've taken him a second, but the fact that she was so flippant about them possibly sleeping together rebooted his whole system.

Des was in the process of stepping out of the truck when he finally managed to speak and paused when he had.

"Oh, yeah." Her voice was still chipper. "I'm going to try and sleep with you at some point. Cool?"

"Uh…" He wasn't sure what to say. "I… guess?"

As she had so many times before, Des gave him a wide smile.

"Cool." She nodded. And with that, she slammed the door and headed inside without bothering to wait for him.

Grey was slow to follow for obvious reasons. He still had trouble catching up with everything that took mere seconds to transpire.

If there was one thing that was becoming abundantly clear, it was that Desdemona Parios was a lot of personality. She seemed to speak her mind regardless of how it came across and if he hadn't been initiated into that kind of insanity by Dex, he could have easily been swept away by the craziness. That didn't mean he was entirely prepared for her, though.

By the time he made it inside, Des was talking to Ansel about her new truck.

"So, what's its name?" Ansel asked.

"I haven't decided yet." She replied.

"You uh," Grey said when he met them at the bar where they stood. "You name your cars?"

"Yeah," She said as though he was the weird one. "Got any ideas?"

"I don't know," He shrugged. "Shit Box?"

Des smiled and laughed. She glanced to Ansel, who was smiling wide, too.

"What do you think?" She asked him.

Ansel held his hand up, palm open, and tilted it from side to side, silently telling her meh.

"Oh, I see how it is." Grey said, causing both of them to laugh a little.

"We'll think of something." Des said. "Hey, you need me to pick you up later, or is Dex gonna do it?"

"I think Dex is." Ansel replied.

"Okay, well, if you need me to for some reason, give me a call, okay?" She told him. Ansel nodded. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

"Love you more." She gave him a wink as she turned. "See you later." She told Grey.

"Yeah," he nodded. For a moment, he was content to let her go until he remembered something he was astounded he'd forgotten. "Wait, hey." Grey jogged after her the few yards she'd walked. Des turned to face him. "What you said earlier,"

She grinned a little at his discomfort with the moment. "About planning to sleep with you?"

"Yeah, that." Grey widened his stance and pressed his fingertips together as he tried to think about what to say.

Des waited, still smirking just a little while he struggled to find the words. She seemed to find the whole thing amusing and he had to admit, he probably would too if it wasn't happening to him.

"If it makes you that uncomfortable," she finally said, "Then consider it a joke, okay?"

Grey nodded because he wasn't sure what else to do. "Sure,"

"I'll see you later."

He waved to her briefly as she headed out. When she was gone, he went back to work, but it was difficult to shake the conversation he'd had with Des.

Was it wrong that he kinda hoped she wasn't joking? It felt like it should've been wrong.

Before Des headed home, she stopped off at the grocery store. The cabinets and fridge at home were the "Dex Special" which meant they weren't bare, just that the family would starve in a day or two if they had to rely on what was in there.

She bought the essentials: Hamburger Helper, macaroni and cheese, Ramen, bread with sandwich fixings, etc. As she made her way down the cereal aisle, Des caught sight of someone standing at the far end looking over the oatmeal. It wouldn't have meant anything to her most days, but she'd seen the guy a handful of times already. Granted, the grocery store wasn't all that big, not a big box store like Costco or something, but it was still odd to see the same guy down every aisle.

Des had noticed him first when she grabbed a couple pounds of cheap ground beef. He looked like a normal shopper –a middle-aged guy with brown hair, and plain clothes- but he was always there. It was weird.

When she found the pop tarts, Des looked over the different kind of flavors. They had the staples like strawberry, cherry, and blueberry, and then the strange ones like s'mores, and chocolate swirl. They even had frosting-less pop tarts. What kind of sadist opted for the ones without frosting? Monsters.

Pop tarts were buy two get one free with a coupon, so Des snatched a coupon from the dispenser and tossed three boxes of blueberry into her cart. She hoped they were still Ansel's favorite. It'd been a while since she'd been around, but Ansel didn't like change so they were a safe bet.

She needed a box of cereal too, but decided to test a theory. Des left the aisle and wandered seemingly aimlessly towards the dairy section. Out of the corner of her eye, she swore she caught sight of the guy, but he was sure to stay far enough away. Des felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She needed more proof, though.

Pretending that she'd forgotten something, Des went back to the cereal aisle and stood in front of the ridiculous selection. As her eyes danced over the colorful boxes, some with cartoon animals and some without, Des saw him again. The same guy as before was standing at the end of the aisle looking over whatever they had on the end-caps. She knew, right then and there, that he was in fact following her.

Her fingers began to tingle and her skin crawled as she was filled with the same anxiety that followed her that night at the bar. Des still had a few things she needed to pick up, but her trip was over. Knowing that he'd be right there behind her, Des headed for the cashiers.

As she was checked out, Des had a clear view of the self-checkout, and lo-in-behold. Once or twice, he glanced over his shoulder under the guise of bagging his stuff, but he did it to keep sure she was there. When he finished his checkout, he left the store, but Des knew he was likely waiting somewhere out of sight to see where she'd go.

After paying, Des wheeled her cart out to the parking lot. There weren't a whole lot of cars there, and the ones that were were spread out. While she loaded the back of her truck, Des wasn't as surprised as she should have been to see the guy loading his two bags into his black sedan. Des was angry, she was angry and scared, and had finally had enough.

Without bothering to close the hatch, Des crossed the two lanes between her and the guy, and was at the driver's side window just as he turned the car on. She wrapped her knuckles against the glass and he rolled it down shortly after.

"Look, I don't have any spare cash," He said with an agitated tone, "So if you need gas money, or grocery money, or whatever, you're going to have to ask someone else."

"That's cute," She said with an edge. "Look, I don't know why you're following me, but-"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He interrupted.

Des met his gaze and held it. Any false kindness was gone and she let that fear and anger shine through.

"But I'm going to go home and if I see this car anywhere near me," Her voice was cold, "I'm going to take that .38 I have under my driver's seat," a lie, "and I'm going to shoot out all four tires, and your engine. You hear me?"

He stared up at her. Des couldn't tell if he was struggling with the idea of telling the truth, or keeping up the charade. When he spoke again, she had her answer.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but I'm going to call the cops if you don't back off."

She flashed an insincere smile. "Go ahead. I'm dating a cop," another lie. "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear what I have to say." The guy flinched. "So, yeah, if I see you, or this car again, okay?" He was slow to nod, but did. "Great!" Des beamed. She patted the top of the car briskly. "You have a good day, okay? Bye-bye now."

And with that, she returned to her Blazer, slammed the hatch shut, and left. The whole drive home, she kept her eye open for the little black sedan. Wisely, he didn't follow her.

Dex pulled up to the house and was immediately presented with something that irritated her. In the driveway was perhaps one of the ugliest SUVs she'd ever seen.

"Oh, come on." She grumbled to herself as she threw her car into park. Dex somehow knew already that the piece of shit was her sister's new car.

When she made her way inside, she saw her sister in the kitchen putting up groceries.

"Tell me that thing isn't yours." Dex said despite already knowing otherwise.

"Quasimodo? Yeah, he's mine."

"Quasimodo?"

Desi smiled. "Yeah."

Dex shook her head. "What is it with you and naming your cars?"

"It gives them personality." Des replied as she put the bread away.

"Yeah, well, that thing has plenty of personality already." Dex said with a sigh as she took a seat at the bar. Desi smiled a little again, but it was weighted, and Dex noticed. "You okay?"

She looked up and nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Dex narrowed her eyes. She could tell something wasn't right, but she couldn't pinpoint what. It didn't seem like anything big, something life-changing or anything like that, but something was definitely off. The protective older sister in her was given a spark of life.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Des chuckled slightly. "I'm totally fine."

Dex slowly nodded. She didn't believe her sister at all, but she knew better than to press. She and Desi were the same in that regard. If someone pushed, they'd shut down and get pissed. In the end, it wasn't worth the fight it'd cause.

"Okay," Dex nodded. "Thanks for the groceries."

"Sure. I've got no problem chipping in, you know that."

Dex gave her a small smile, which her sister returned. She still couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not that her sister was back, but whatever, right? Family is family.

Elsewhere, inside a black sedan:

The phone rang and rang until someone finally picked up on the other end of the line.

"Yeah?" His voice was gruff when he spoke.

"Hey, it's John Sibus."

"Yeah, what can I do for you?"

He peered through the windshield at the small, two-story white and blue Craftsman-styled house across the street. There was a shitty red Mustang parked out front and an equally beaten and battered Chevy Blazer in the driveway.

"I found your girl." He said.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Where is she?"

"She's gone home." John replied.

"You're sure it's her?"

"Oh yeah," John reached over and picked up a picture of the young woman he'd been given as reference and it was a spitting image of the one who'd threatened him in the parking lot. "I'm sure." He tossed it back down. "From what I can tell, she's living with two other people, a woman and some kid, a boy."

"Her brother and sister, yeah." He said. "Look, keep an eye on her for me, okay? Make sure she doesn't skip town."

"For how long?"

"A couple of days, maybe a week. At least until I can get everything squared away over here."

"That's not gonna be cheap."

"Yeah, add it to my tab." He shot back a bit angrily.

The line went dead and John knew the conversation was over. He set his phone down and turned his attention back to the house across the way. It wouldn't be hard to follow such a noticeable truck. The beast sort of stuck out.