Page 69 of Venomous as a Snake

Yes.

Four.

Walker: When you finish,

please let the fucking dog in.

Hooker thinks you’re killing her.

Miraculously, Drew gets his hands on a shipment of grenades. Or that’s the way he puts it. I don’t know how much of a miracle it is in this day and age, but I’m a happy snake today.

He schedules the pickup at Walker’s club, which the surly croc isn’t thrilled about… But we can’t meet this person in public, and we don’t want anyone else coming to our houses. So, the club it is.

Forrest and Collin tag along, not willing to let me go alone. My mates had no objections, and neither do I. I enjoy their company and banter, though the ride over was unusually quiet for those two.

“Who are we meeting again?” Collin finally asks.

“I have no idea,” I admit.

“You don’t know who it is?” Forrest quires, his brow furrowed.

I shake my head. “No. They’re bringing grenades. For all I know, they’re illegal, in which case, we won’t be exchanging names. They—whoever it is—know to give the goods to the blonde woman. That’s all the instructions either of us got.”

“I don’t like that we’re getting grenades from someone no one knows,” Collin mutters.

“That’s how weapons dealing works,” I explain. “Not always… But Drew has his sources. His mom passed most of her contacts along to her sons, so I’m not really worried.”

“What if they explode?” he counters.

I grin. “That’s what we want.”

“What if they explode before you want them to explode?” he pops back.

“That would be unfortunate.”

There’s a light pecking sound at the side door, and both men turn to me.

I roll my eyes. “I’ve got it.”

“What if it’s not—”

But I’m already out of the office and down the hall, heading toward the sound. When I swing the door open, I’m greeted with the dead eyes of a pelican.

I mean, it’s alive… It’s just got these flat, beady black eyes that unnerve me.

It trots in, smooth and steady, before turning around to face me once more. The bottom half of its beak is stretchy skin that expands to hold… Well, I don’t know what it’s intended for, but it’s filled with grenades right now.

The pelican opens its mouth and steps toward me.

“I guess you want me to stick my hand in there to get them out?”

It adjusts its wings. Not that it can answer me, even if it wanted to.

“Right. Don’t bite me,” I warn. “I bite back.”

Collin snorts. “It would suck to swallow one of those.”

I nod as I reach into its mouth. “How many grenades do you think a pelican can carry?”