Page 47 of Last Man Standing

Choking out an incredulous laugh, she turns and wanders away with a shake of her head. “Starburst for the big guy. Got it.”

“Make it quick. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and we already lost an hour to breakfast, since you refused to move your ass till you were done coloring.”

She spins and walks backwards, blind to the cars moving around her. Oblivious to the truck that skids into a parking spot by the gas station’s electric front doors. “Actually, since you’re a stickler for details: we lost an hour because of you. Because you were busy chatting up the waitress. But it’s okay, Boot. You’re allowed to have a thing for sixty-year-old buxom babes. I’m pretty sure she liked you too.”

“Uh-huh.” I lift my chin toward the gas station. “Shut up. Walk. And watch where you’re going before you fall on your face and cry again.”

Bullseye.

Her eyes narrow to slits, and her smile transforms into a sneer.

She doesn’t like admitting to her tears, and she hates that she wants to be a badass, but every time the world gets a little heavy, she locks up and does none of the badass shit she knows how to do.

Twisting back to the front, her long hair whipping with the wind, she stalks across the concrete and stomps her way inside.

Probably gonna stomp on every bag of Starburst, too.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, buzzing with an incoming call, so I drag it out and ignore all those don’t use your phone near a gas pump warning stickers slapped on every surface.

Catching Mav’s name on the screen, I swipe and bring the device to my ear. “Yeah?”

“You’re headed this way?” His breath comes out on short, sharp pants, which means he probably went for his five-mile run as soon as he woke up. Before checking his messages. Which is a really weird fuckin’ thing to do, since the extent of my morning exercise is trudging my ass to the coffeepot. “What time should we expect you?”

“Late.” I lean against the side of my truck and watch Scarlett through the gas station’s grimy windows. “Coming in when it’s dark.”

“You still that far away?”

“Nope. But I’m gonna do a few circles, cross back and forth for a bit, bide my time.”

“Why?” His labored breathing slows as suspicion trickles into our call. “Someone following you?”

“Nope.” I keep an eye on the two dudes who climb out of the truck. Because they’re rowdy enough to be stupid, and stupid motherfuckers have a habit of zeroing in on women who look like Scarlett Castro. “I’m bringing someone with me.”

Mav chokes on his spit. He gasps for air and knocks something over on his end of the line. “Come again?”

“That chick,” I grunt. “Our last location was compromised, so we had to bug out, and there’s nowhere else I can put her. Can’t leave her with her folks. Can’t drop her at a hotel and not expect her to run straight back into the street. Dumping her anywhere else would probably get her killed.”

“So you’re…” He wheezes. “You’re gonna…” He hoooooos. “Fuck me, Bas. You’re watching someone else’s target right now, she pissed someone off enough to need protection, and that someone is powerful enough to run the both of you out of your safe house. So then you thought, shit, bruh, I might bring her home to meet my mom?”

“Don’t make it a big deal.” I draw a slow, steady breath and check the pump as the dollars climb. Fuck this economy. “Tell the team. Prepare La Bruja.”

“You know she hates it when you call her that.”

“Yeah, but distracting her with a name might buy me enough time to explain before she annihilates me for bringing this chick to the house.”

“Probably should say our goodbyes now though, right?” He exhales a teasing laugh. “Jesus. It was nice knowing you.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I cast my gaze to the windows and locate Scarlett; her back is to me, her arms laden with bags of chips, and one of those stupid motherfuckers stands in the next aisle, his six-something frame making it easy for him to watch her.

His lips move. Her head shakes.

Releasing the gas nozzle and slamming it back into the pump slot, I fasten my tank cap and slap the cover closed. “We’re only a couple of hours away, but I’m not bringing her in until it’s dark. If I wait long enough, she’ll fall asleep, then I won’t have to worry about her knowing where we are.”

“You wanna take her to town instead? We could put her up in a safe hotel. Or we got some injectables for⁠—”

“I’d prefer not to inject a fuckin’ poison into her neck if I can avoid it.” My long legs eat up the smooth concrete, my eyes trained dead center on Scarlett’s new boyfriend’s forehead. Other folks wander outside, climbing into their vehicles, which makes for a few less witnesses to what’s about to happen. I take a risk and scan the shop and its security cameras. Just a fast pass of my eyes. A little math. I work out where they’re monitoring; the counter, mostly, and the side wall where an ATM sits, and where they’re not; the back corner, where a row of stools line the glass and give customers an opportunity to sip their coffee and stare out at a dozen gas pumps. “Get the house ready.” I order through tight teeth. “Keep La Bruja out of my hair. We’ll roll in when it’s safe.”

“You sound homicidal. What are you doing right now?”