Page 33 of Heaven Help Me

“What the actual fuck, V? Are you trying to kill me?”

Deuce is standing now, his suit covered in dirt and grime. His pants aren’t buttoned and half his shirt tail is untucked. There’s even a streak of something liquid across his cheek that I don’t want to investigate. He’s pissed, hands gripping my shoulders to give me a not-so-gentle shake. And still, I can’t stop laughing.

“It…was…a snake!” I say, so breathless it’s hard to get the words out. “About…to bite…you.”

Deuce’s mouth is hanging open as he tries to make sense of my garbled explanation. He finally releases me and heads over to collect the gun out of the dirt and dry leaves.

“Why the fuck were you shooting the porta-potty, then?”

I double over with another round of laughter at his indignant tone while he says porta-potty. Not even pissed-off Deuce in a suit can make the words porta-potty proper.

He clears the gun and pockets the remaining bullets like he’s still concerned I’ll shoot him. “I’d be so fucking pissed if you shot me in the shitter, Valentina.”

That takes me out. My ass lands in the dirt. I’m hysterical with laughter at this point. Tears sting my eyes. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.

“Seriously. I’d never forgive you. I’d haunt you from the grave.”

Goddamn, he’s still talking! He waits me out though, which is good because it takes a solid ten minutes for me to collect myself. I wipe my eyes and take several long breaths, a decisive wheeze audible in my inhales.

“I wasn’t shooting at you, Deuce,” I finally say. “I was shooting at the copperhead that was on the roof of the porta-potty, ready to strike as you exited. I saved your goddamn life.”

Deuce scoffs, though his eyes go wide. He ambles over to the porta-potty and points at a bullet hole I didn’t see until now. “You just made a smiley face on that target, but you couldn’t hit the damn snake?”

I shrug, averting my eyes from the bullet hole that’s way too close to where Deuce must have been. Damn. I can’t believe I missed the snake either. “I guess not.”

Deuce throws his arms down, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

I get to my feet and dust off my backside. This dress needs to run through the washing machine before I can wear it into town. Same with Deuce’s suit, though I doubt it’ll ever be the same, which is such a shame.

“Well, the good news is that I trust your shooting now. You’re pretty good.”

Deuce gives me a look even dirtier than his suit. “Well, now I don’t trust yours!”

He opens his door angrily. I grab the gun cases and throw them in the back seat, feeling a touch guilty. Though, honestly, in my line of work, if no one ends up dead, that’s a pretty good outcome. “Calm down.”

“Don’t. Tell me. To calm. Down,” he thunders as I get in the car.

Seeing the wild look in his eyes just has me breaking down into another round of giggles that lasts until we pull up to his house to change clothes.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Deuce

Several days have passed since the Shitter Shootout, the term I’ve adopted when referring to the morning Valentina tried to shoot me with my pants down. The woman is pure evil. Knifing me after we slept together as teens wasn’t enough apparently. She tried to take me out as an adult in the most uncivilized way possible.

“Would you quit grumbling about it? Jesus. You can’t let things go. You’re still pissed I knifed you, even though we talked it out and it was no one’s fault.” Valentina throws her hands in the air and I can’t see the damn car to my right at the four-way stop.

I glance in the mirror and see a gray sedan two cars behind me. The guy driving has a purple Angels cap pulled low and hiding his face. I accelerate through the four-way stop when it’s my turn and keep an eye on the rearview mirror. Valentina, oblivious to everything but the weak point she’s trying to make, keeps running her mouth.

“No one’s fault?” I snort.

Valentina twists in her seat, looking prettier than any woman has a right to look. Her hair is slicked back in a ponytail like usual, but she pulled out wispy pieces in the front that keep getting caught in her red lip gloss. It’s distracting as fuck and I’ve been trying not to look at her all day. Every time I do, I find my gaze locked on her mouth, visualizing all kinds of things I shouldn’t.

“It was a misunderstanding!” Valentina shouts, voice all raspy and sexy as hell.

I roll my eyes and make another turn. Yep, a few seconds later, the gray sedan makes the same turn. Huh. Time to take a tour of the outlying streets of Heaven. At the next intersection I turn left, away from my house. If Valentina notices that we’re not headed home, she doesn’t say anything.

“Misunderstandings are for simple things like, oh, I forgot to pick up dinner on the way home like you asked me to. Misunderstandings don’t end in one person lying on the ground in a pool of blood!”