Grand Theft Auto 5 By The Book Novels & Stories

Five years of humiliation and five years of being less than a person… Had I even been like a human to them? “You two! Check that side!” Voices echoed from the yard. They were closing in. I snapped back to myself and tore down the mountain path as fast as my legs would carry me. Back in the city, I flagged down the first cab I could find and went straight home, to the place Melissa and I once called home. My steps froze when I pushed open the study door, it was filled with monitors, all displaying live feeds of the estate. Every room, every path, and even the stable that I’d slept in for five years, were displaying right in the middle of the screen.

My silence only seemed to please Jonathan Zane because a trace of satisfaction flickered in his eyes before he covered it up with a look of righteous disappointment. "I was trying to handle this quietly and give you some dignity, but clearly that was wasted on you," he said. "Stealing your own mother-in-law's gold bracelet? That's a new low, even for you. Maybe it's better this way. At least Victoria gets to see your true colors." I kept my eyes on him as I explained, "I did go to the police station that day, but I went there for—"

I drove with speed to a lonely place and got out of my car. I hid in a hidden corner and waited to see if the car would follow and it did. When the driver in the car saw that my car was parked and abandoned, he got out of his car and another man got out of the passenger seat. I sneaked up from the back and tackled one of the men. The other noticed when his partner cried for help. He pulled out his gun and pointed at me. But when he saw who I was, he froze, hiding his gun. I recognized him.

I didn't look back. The parking lot was small, enclosed by a chain-link fence. There were a few nondescript sedans and, blessedly, two motorcycles parked near the gate. One of them—a beat-up Yamaha—had keys dangling in the ignition. Thank you, Noah, for the crash course in grand theft auto. I swung my leg over the seat, my hands shaking so badly I fumbled the ignition twice. Finally, the engine roared to life. I kicked the stand up and peeled out of the lot just as the back door of the building flew open.

He’d already been in bed with them, working angles all along. But Alonzo’s name never appeared. Not once. I followed Victor’s order. I burned the pages until the ashes curled, black flakes turning to smoke. Then, restless, I walked to the garage. The red Porsche gleamed beside Constance’s town car. Sending back books was easy. Sending back a car? Not so much. I considered parking it in front of Xenos headquarters with the keys taped to the windshield. But instead, I opened the passenger door and slid inside. The leather still smelled expensive. Seductive. I dug the registration papers out of the glove box.

“But hating it doesn’t change what needs to be done.” The sound of an engine roaring to life jolts me from my thoughts. I don't know how long I'd been lost in thought, but judging the fact that my friends are back, it appears to have been a couple of hours. Moments later, headlights pierce through the trees, and the stolen car—a beat-up old sedan—rolls to a stop in front of us. Eleanor steps out of the driver’s seat, her expression grim but determined. “Get in." Greta hesitates, clutching Mia tightly. “Whose car is this?"

This one opened—someone had left it unlocked. "Get in," he said. "We're stealing an FBI car?" "Borrowing. We'll bring it back." I climbed into the passenger seat, my heart hammering. This was it. We were going rogue. No backup. No authorization. No plan beyond getting to Teterboro before the leak could warn Alexei. Adrian hot-wired the ignition—apparently a skill he'd picked up somewhere in his youth or necessity. The engine turned over with a roar. We pulled out of the parking garage into the afternoon sunlight, heading north toward New Jersey.

Her screen displayed the name of the person texting her. Graham had really good eyesight, and he managed to see the name on her phone. A "Dean Lucero". He didn't manage to read the message. However, Gwyneth grinned a little after reading it. It was just a small grin, but a grin nonetheless. The light turned green just then, and the car behind them honked impatiently. Graham snapped back to his senses and floored the gas. He drove steadily back. Gwyneth had fallen asleep again sometime later, and her breathing was even.

Jean says "Fine, thank you. I'll get you some paper." Jean went inside of his oldest daughter, Tilly's tent. As he did this, Arthur stole all the money Jean hid in his son Tack's tent. Tack prided himself in protecting the money, but Tack was asleep. Arthur drove off in Jean's truck, Arthur stole Jean's key by grabbing it off of the back of Jean's truck. Jean came outside of Tilly's tent with paper to get the directions, but by the time he did, he saw Jean driving off in his truck with all of Jean's money.

“The rest of it will cover your living expenses.” I’ve decided. I’ll drag the old man tied up out of here if I must. Turning back, I climb the hill. When I got to the top, I let out a curse and charged toward my car. The two in-between kids have broken open the door and are stripping my car of anything they can lay their hands on, which includes the mats, a packet of wipes for the leather, and the service book in the glove compartment. The wheel caps are already gone. They jump on broken pieces of pressed wood and use them as sleighs to slide down the hill with their loot.