Stolen

Flash Fiction Friday prompt:  Keyword - "stolen", 300 word limit

The stolen car sat outside his rundown apartment.  Leah pulled the tattered blinds and peeked nervously out at it.

"Fuck, baby...we needed a ride...so I got us a ride..."

His messy black hair, and his blue eyes pleading with her to accept his gift, made his face look boyish despite the  dark shadow hugging his jaw.

"Joe...why can't you just bring me flowers like a normal guy?"

A deep growling laugh rose from his chest.  He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, smacked it against his hand several times, and fell onto the frameless mattress, glaring up at the concrete walls.

Deep inside, Leah felt that even though Joe was a bit ethically-challenged, he was basically a good guy with misguided ideas about how to make a girl happy.

Oddly, she felt guilty for the stolen car.  He wouldn't steal shit if it weren't for her.  He did what he did out of fear of losing her, even though he'd never admit it.

She sighed inwardly and shook her head, dropping to her knees.  No matter how much he fucked up, she couldn't help loving him.  She climbed on top of him and pulled her t-shirt over her head.  Her braless chest bared to him, he focused in on her eyes.

"You've gotta take it back."

"I can't...the fucking cops'll nab me."

"Joe..." she scolded.

"Fuck me, Leah..."  He almost whined it, running his hand through his hair in exasperation.  "No really, fuck me.  Fuck me so hard I want to take the fucking car back."

"Oh, I will, Joe.  I will.  I'd rather ride your cock than a shitty old Buick any day."