Time Jacker, Aaron Crash [most important books of all time txt] 📗

Back in his car, Jack started time again with a swish of his thumb over the side of his hand. The migraine had been far-off, maybe even hours away. He was getting far more powerful and could see a time where he could stop time for days on end without any negative effects.

He drove the girls back to his apartment. He was going to take a nap, and then they could figure out how to sell the gold. He had an idea of a place they could go.

Both the angel and the demon were strangely quiet. Back at his apartment, Jack showered first since his feet and his knees were covered in mud. Gabby went next because Bailey said she could wait. The sex demon liked being dirty.

While Bailey waited for her turn in the bathroom, she sat on the fire escape and smoked a cigarette. Jack wasn’t sure where she’d gotten the cancer stick, but there she was, smoking away. Then it was her turn.

Gabby went out to sit on the fire escape on one of his kitchen chairs. Officially, they weren’t supposed to be out there, but he didn’t want to tell the angel that. She was lawful good and would hate breaking the rules.

Jack joined her. The air was chilly, but it wasn’t so bad. Actually, the cold smelled good, tinged with the woodsmoke of some nearby houses’ fireplace. It was the perfume of fall in Colorado.

“Are you feeling okay, Gabby?” Jack asked.

The angel knit her brows. “I didn’t mean to get sexual with Ginger. Or with you, for that matter. It just felt so right. This body has such powerful needs. You know, for the last ten months, I’ve been very judgmental of humans. Sex seemed like such a simple thing to me, and yet, you all were so obsessed with it. Now I understand. I don’t understand everything that is happening to me, but I understand that.”

Bailey came out of the shower, naked and dripping water across his carpet and the linoleum of his small kitchen. She was drying her hair. Her tail was back, flicking behind her. “What are you two talking about?”

“How I lost control today. With Ginger.” Gabby looked worried. “And I went against an angel. I have no idea what my legion is going to think of me. Or what my commander, Pinturicchio, will say to me.”

Bailey rolled her eyes. “You worry way too much. I guess it’s an angel thing. You and I are outside the law at this point, Feathers. We are way off the reservation, but we’re helping Annie, right? And we’re giving people experiences. Granted, no one will remember them, but we will. And that’s saying something.”

“I’ll have to check in at some point,” Gabby said meditatively.

“Not tonight,” the demon said. “Tonight we fence stolen goods.”

Jack realized that with the gathering darkness outside, and the lights on inside, anyone could see Bailey walking around naked. And there was the water to take care of.

Before Jack could say anything, Gabby shook her head. “Bailey, you have to dry off completely in the shower. You can’t track water all over Jack’s apartment. And we’re not selling stolen goods. We retrieved items lost in time and space, and we’ll be finding a good home for them. We’ll get some money in return, but that’s not the point.”

Bailey smirked. “It’s kind of the only point.”

“And we need the money.” Jack didn’t mention that they didn’t just have the golden bejeweled goblets; they also had Meriton’s bracelets and belt, as well as his damaged horn. Bailey had grabbed it and thrown it into the bag.

Jack took his Beretta in the shoulder holster, but he also stuck the Eternity Cannon, wrapped in a towel, in an old backpack,  along with the goblets and the angel gear. Then he got the girls back into his Ford Whatever. They drove down Plum Creek Boulevard and got on Highway 67, which would take them into the mountains toward Deckers and Woodland Park. Highway 67 would eventually take them to Highway 24 and then to 285 South.

Way before all that, though, Jack got off the highway and drove to Pinetree’s Bar and Grill, which was an interesting little mountain bar that served Plum Creek, Deckers, and the surrounding region. Even people from Sedalia drove in for a drink. Pinetree’s bar had been built on the side of a cliff surrounded by lodgepole pines. Back in the sixties, it had been an artist residence, which was why the architecture was so funky.

Then someone did the rezoning to make it a little watering hole, knocked out some of the walls to make a big room, and took out a floor as well, just to give it an airy feeling. All in all, it was a cool place and had its regulars.

The parking lot was dirt, though Pinetree kept thinking he’d get it paved at some point.

Jack knew he couldn’t slip into the bar unnoticed—no, he was going to make an entrance, walking into the place with two otherworldly women, both gorgeous. Gabby was in white slacks with a tight white sweater. Bailey was back in her red dress and strutting around in her black stilettos.

Jack was just Jack—jeans, a T-shirt, his boots, and his leather coat.

They walked into the place, which had the Pistol Annies playing on the jukebox. It was mostly country and western music, which was just fine with Jack.

The place had tables scattered across the hardwood floor with the bar on the right and a wall of windows on the left. They showed a nice sunrise in the morning. There had been times where they’d spent all night drinking, talking, and laughing.

Above were the leftovers of the old artist rooms, exposed since the front part of the floor had been removed. Pinetree had decorated them with mannequins wearing Old West gear: leather vests, cowboy hats, boots with spurs, that kind of thing. The female dummies wore the big frilly skirts. It was odd, but it