"I had three." She held up four fingers.
"Good to know you're just fine." I laughed. "Should I carry you?"
"Probably." She gave me a dopey grin. "But I think I can at least make it to the car."
"It's about a mile away."
"Oh." Her face fell.
"How about a piggyback ride?" I offered lamely, hating that a simple walk to the car was making her sad because she was so exhausted.
She stopped walking and crossed her arms. "Riding a cowboy was on the list."
"I'm not following."
"Talk to me in a southern accent, and I'll imagine a cowboy hat on that gorgeous head of hair and boom… I'm riding a cowboy."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Andi, I have so many different scenarios that would fit perfectly with that statement. None of them, however, include me carrying you through the park while singing 'Achy Breaky Heart.'"
"Oh good. You know it then?"
"I need to learn the art of silence."
"Probably true." She nodded.
"And teach it to you," I added.
"Aw, come on cowboy…"
I rolled my eyes and turned around so she could jump onto my back. "Should I find a park bench, or can you actually jump this high?"
"Never ask a ninja if she can jump — it's degrading."
"My mistake. I thought you were a short Russian masquerading as a baker. Go ahead, ninja. Jump."
She did, probably using the rest of the energy she had left. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly. "Mush."
"I thought I was a horse."
"I changed my mind. Girls can do that on occasion."
Damn, the girl made me smile. The afternoon sun was starting to set as we walked along the path. Andi was encouraging me to use a southern accent in her most Russian accent.
And I was trying to pay attention to our surroundings, just in case we'd somehow been followed.
I thought we were in the clear until we reached the edge of the park. I could see the street, and immediately regretted that simple fact the minute two black sedans pulled up to the curb.
Five men got out.
Two from the first car.
Three from the second.
Andi tensed behind me.
"Andi." I kept my smile in place like there wasn't anything wrong. "Got any energy left?"
"Enough." She shuddered behind me.
"My gun," I whispered. "It's in the back of my pants. Reach between your legs and slide it up so nobody sees."
"You know in any other situation…" she muttered as I felt the gun slide up my back.
"Good," I encouraged. "The minute I put you down I want you to aim for the guy to the left. Don't shoot for the head. Hit his kneecap so he goes down. If he reaches for his gun—"
"This isn't my first rodeo, cowboy."
"You're right. I forget."
"I'm good. Don't worry about me."
The tension left my body. "I won't. Just don't get shot. I hate having to sew up bullet wounds."
"Please." I could feel the energy riding off her body. "You owe me a massage if my body count's higher."
"So now it's a competition?"
"Russians rarely lose."
"Well, you should get used to it. Because this Italian's going to hand you your ass."
"I'd like to see you try."
The men were trying to look nonchalant, outside their cars, smoking cigars like they weren't waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.
"One," I whispered.
Andi slid farther down my back. "Two."
"Three." The word fell from my lips just as I ducked to the right. Andi went to my left and popped off two rounds directly into the guy's kneecaps — not just one, but both of them. A crunching sound broke out across the park as he fell on bones, cracking them further. He wailed in pain and surprisingly didn't reach for his gun.
Three of the men started charging me. Gun less, I could only rely on the fact that my fists were just as deadly as any gun could be, and I punched the first man in the throat then turned and elbowed the next. They stumbled back. Another gunshot went off. Andi was seriously picking them off like she was shooting fish in a bucket.
The three men turned their heads to glare at her. Then, rather than attacking, came at me again.
Surprised, I was knocked in the face by the first guy but sidestepped the next hit then landed a hard blow to his stomach followed by a knee to the groin. With a growl, I head-butted the next guy then punched him in the jaw; the sound of teeth breaking was my only indication that he'd be down for the count.
The final man circled me.
"Let me get him," Andi pleaded behind me.
"He's mine," I barked.
The man shrugged and held up his hands. "You should let girl do your work."
I rolled my eyes. "I'll never hear the end of it."
"Andi," the man called, "why not come with us, huh? You've done job. Time to come home."
"Job?" I repeated.
Andi came up beside me and aimed the gun for his forehead. "I've never worked for you."
"Oh?" The man chuckled and glanced at me. "He knows as well as I know… you are never out."
"Please let me pull the trigger."
The man ran at us.