She writhes underneath me, still gripping the gun, but her finger’s not on the trigger. So before she can even think about shooting me, I drag that arm down, place my full weight on her wrist with my knee, and then grab the gun from her hand.
“Now stop,” I growl, as the saliva pools in my mouth. I might heave and my head is aching even worse than before. I need her to give in right now so I can stop this fight. “It’s over. You’re gonna cooperate, I’m gonna get you out of here, and we’re gonna forget this day ever happened.”
“Get off me,” she says, kicking her legs up, trying to unseat me. My head spins. Hold it together, man. Hold it together.
I lie down across her chest, almost smothering her with my weight. “Stop,” I say, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She shakes her head like it tickles, but I touch my lips to her soft skin and breathe, “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re gonna have bruises if you keep struggling.”
“Let me go.”
“I will, but not until you’re still.”
She tries to take a deep breath to calm herself, but I’m too heavy so she can’t get enough air. I ease up a little and she draws in air through her teeth. My head clears and the sick feeling starts to subside.
Yeah, she’s still pissed and yeah, that sure the fuck was something I haven’t felt in fifteen years. I’m gonna have to get out the big guns for this one and put a stop to this before it goes too far. So I lean back down and kiss her.
She twists her head back and forth a few times, but I don’t give up. My lips lock with hers and then I’m probing with my tongue, trying to get her to submit.
“Stop,” she says with a little desperation.
But it’s a chance to kiss her deeper. I slip my tongue into her mouth and she goes still. A moment later her lips soften and she’s kissing me back. I let go of her wrist and ease my knee up off her arm to see if she’s gonna fight. But her hands go right to my hard muscled shoulders and she digs her nails in.
Fuck. That feels good. Good enough to make me close my eyes and almost make me change my mind about getting rid of her. I pull away and now we both need to catch our breath. “That’s more like it.” She turns her head away from me, unwilling to accept the fact she kissed me back. “Do you want to come upstairs?” I ask. “Get some coffee? Dry off and calm down?”
She’s very fucking cute. Little dimples in her cheeks, even when the frown is there. Her hair has a bit of wave to it and drapes over her shoulders. Something between blonde and brown. Her eyes are hazel. Swirls of brown and green and blue.
“I don’t know,” she says, interrupting my moment. “I really just…” Her body relaxes more as she gives in to me. “I really need to go.”
And fuck if I don’t like that little bit of giving in. Because what the hell… I can feel myself getting hard.
Well, I’m sure as fuck not giving her that power over me. So I get up and extend my gloved hand to her for the third time today.
She takes it, squeaking out a little, “Thank you.” She stands there, looking at the ground, like she can’t believe this is where we’re at.
No one is more surprised than me. “Just let me get my keys, OK, gun girl? And then we’ll go talk about this like grown-ups.” I walk over to one of my big red toolboxes, open the top drawer, fish around a little and come up with what I need.
I walk back over to her. She’s still in the same place, but now her arms are wrapped around herself, like she’s freezing. She probably is. She’s soaking wet and covered in mud.
“Cold?” I ask, smiling down at her so she gets a little lost in my eyes. She nods and I pull her close to my bare chest, knocking her off her guard even further. I lean into her ear and whisper, “Sorry, gun girl. But I have no choice.” She tries to turn her head to look at me, but I’ve already bitten the cap off a hypodermic needle.
I stick it right into the fleshy part of her shoulder.
First Kiss
First Kiss
Chapter Five - Lincoln
The static hum of a police scanner fills my car as I ease my way through the dark, wet streets of Cathedral City. Sheila is commenting endlessly on the scanner though the computer in the dash, but I’m only half listening. Case is waiting for me and I’m late. I had to turn my phone off last night to stop worrying about his incessant calling, but everyone has to face the music eventually and my time is now.
The darkness of the city streets mimics my mood, but that’s not unusual. My mood has been dark for many years now. Too many to count. And looking back, was there ever a time when things looked bright?
If so, I’ve blocked it out.
What else can you do? I mean, why bother wishing for something you can’t have? Why bother with hope that will fail you over and over again, when you can count on revenge and retribution to deliver every single time?