“Need your sister to save you, huh, pussy?”
Head down, Jace said nothing. He was waiting for the pain, but I stood between him and Lenny’s fist. Even wanting to rant and rave at this fucker, I lost my voice. Suddenly, I was staring into Playboy's face, not Lenny's. Scared of pain, I didn't move out of his way, but I didn't speak either. Sawyer had no problem sharing her feelings though.
The Johansson sisters shared a habit of letting out a high-pitched scream before battle. Bailey called it their Xena: Warrior Princess cry. When Lenny wouldn't let go of Jace, Sawyer climbed on the table, spit out her gum, and let loose with a scream capable of startling the dead.
“Shut up!” Lenny yelled, but his command didn’t hold much heat. He was scared of the little girl. I didn’t blame him.
Sawyer narrowed her eyes, causing her pretty, little face to twist into something ugly. “I’m going to have you killed! I’ll have you torn apart by dogs! I’m going to watch you scream, fucker!”
Releasing Jace’s shirt, Lenny stared hard at me. He knew things were out of hand, but he couldn’t back down. Not to a little girl or for me either. Lenny was a killer and men like him didn’t blink even if they ended up dead.
Sawyer never paused in her profanity-laced threats, even when Lenny let go of Jace. A noise startled Jace and me. Lenny turned his gaze away from us and towards the woods. On his back was a big splat of paint.
“What the fuck?” Lenny yelled at Saint who moved casually towards us.
Saint sported a half dozen paint colors across his chest and legs. Yet he moved as if unfazed by getting shot so much.
“Sorry. Didn't hear you,” Saint said, reaching us.
“I said, ‘What the fuck?’ Why did you shoot me?”
“Could have been worse,” Saint said, setting down his paintball rifle. “I could have used live rounds like this.”
Saint pulled out a small handgun. Well the gun wasn't really small, but looked that way in his large hands. I suspected the resulting hole in Lenny’s face would look big enough.
“Be cool,” Lenny said.
Saint smiled in a relaxed way. Stepping closer, he checked me for injuries then peeked at where Jace hid.
“I don’t like people messing with my things and Harlow belongs to me while I’m in Ellsberg. Did you forget that?”
His voice was so calm that I was startled when Sawyer started screaming again.
“I want you to kill him!” she yelled, hands in fists and tears pouring down her red face. “I order you to kill him! I’ll pay you! I don’t care! Shoot him!”
Saint studied Lenny then gestured for him to leave. “Be happy I’m such a nice guy.”
Lenny stomped away, trying to save face, but Sawyer still screamed at him. She wanted him dead so badly I thought she might do it herself.
“Why didn’t you kill him?” she demanded from Saint who shoved his gun back into a pocket.
Saint looked at Sawyer and sighed. “Kid, life isn’t always going to play out the way you want. The good guys don’t always win and the bad guys don’t always get what's coming to them. I know you have a powerful daddy and your brothers run around like their shit don't stink. Maybe you’ll have an easier life than most, but never forget that as scary as your family is there are scarier people in the world. People like your daddy’s bosses in Memphis. They’re Lenny’s bosses too and they say he lives. Life works like that sometimes.”
Sawyer frowned, but didn’t argue. She climbed down from the picnic table and took Jace’s hand. My brother was still hiding deep in his head. He probably wanted to stay with me or find Winnie. Instead, he let Sawyer guide him upstairs to the house. In reality, Sawyer needed more soothing than he did now.
“Thanks,” I said to Saint who was watching me. “I totally had it handled, but I know how you like to feel important.”
Saint shared my grin. “Sorry I pissed off Lenny and he took it out on you.”
“You shot him in the face?”
Saint grinned wider. “And next time, I’ll shoot him with a real gun.” When I frowned, Saint took my hand and placed it against his sweaty chest. “He’s been gunning for you since day one and I’ve controlled myself. The games are over now, so I’m killing him. Messing with those kids sealed his fate.”
“But you told Sawyer you wouldn’t.”
Saint shrugged. “That child isn’t old enough to have someone’s death on her shoulders. Maybe she’s crazy enough not to feel too bad about getting him killed, but I doubt it.”
“You’re a cuddly bear inside,” I said, leaning against him. “You got shot a lot.”
“I think Judd and Vaughn were having a contest and I ended up as the target.”
Saint glanced down at my shoulder and chest. “Who needs to bleed?”
“The twins were aiming for Vaughn. I think you can leave them unbloodied.”
“Maybe,” he said, looking unconvinced.