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“Don’t even finish that sentence, Syd. I’m a man. I don’t get jealous of friends. I’m not that kind of person. Now, if I see someone you don’t know trying to touch you, I can’t promise I won’t break his arm. But Adam is okay.”
She looks down, her hands twisting her shirt in her lap. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re just too nice to me.”
“You deserve it. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, Syd.”
* * *
“Thank you for bringing me out,” Sydney tells me as we step out into the hot Texas heat. The sun has started going down by now, disappearing behind the buildings in front of us. It casts a beautiful orange hue across the sky, complete with pink clouds, the blue sky peeking through here and there.
We both stop to admire it. We don’t get these kinds of skies in DC much.
Grabbing her hand, I pull her toward the parking garage. The second we round the corner, bullets fly.
Sydney screams, ducking. I quickly remember her distaste for guns as I pull mine out of the back of my jeans. “Get behind that dumpster,” I yell to her, gesturing wildly to it. She does what I say, crouching behind it as I stand in the open, my gun pointed and ready. A man dressed in all black peeks out from behind a concrete pole in the garage, and it only takes one shot to take him out, blood spraying on the car behind him, the alarm going off as he lands on the hood.
Two more men appear to the right, and I’m quick with the trigger, taking them down within seconds of them appearing. After two more, I turn to Sydney, offering her my hand.
She looks scared, her eyes open wide as she looks at the bodies around us. “Do we have to clean them up?” she asks, looking around for anyone who may have seen us.
I shake my head. “Not if we go now.” I whip my phone out, dialing Stella.
“Hey! I heard you’re in town,” she answers, chipper as ever, on the second ring.
“We are, and we were just attacked downtown. Can you erase all video footage?” I ask her quickly, wanting to get off the phone as quickly as possible.
“Of course! On Trent Street, right? I hope you tried those onions. I told Matthew to tell you about them. So good.”
Stella has always been a talker, regardless of the time and place.
“Thank you, Stella, I owe you one,” I say simply as I hang up on her, stuffing my phone back into my pocket.
I keep my gun drawn as we approach one of the men. His gun lies beside him, and I pick it up carefully, handing it to Sydney. She takes it between her thumb and pointer finger, her face a mask of disgust.
“I know you hate them, Princess, but this is life or death right now. If you have to use it, you have to use it.”
She stares at it longer, lost in thought. I grab her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes. “Did you hear me?”
She nods, looking absolutely petrified.
Carefully maneuvering around the corner, we come to our car. Knowing Texas, the whole thing is bulletproof, which only grants me a speck of solace.
We’re about to get in when three more men appear, raining bullets down on us. I take out one as a bullet flies past my head, and I feel blood dripping down my cheek. Putting my hand up, I find just a graze. I’ll be fine.
Turning, I find one of the men cornering Sydney, watching as she struggles with the gun.
I shoot him quickly, and he goes down right in front of her. He groans as I stride over to him.
Grabbing the front of his uniform, I take him in.
Tactical gear. A military-grade weapon. His face is half covered. “Who sent you?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“Fuck you, man,” he says in response, and I drop him to the ground, point my gun at his chest, and fire. Once, twice, three times for good measure before I cast an incredulous look at Sydney.
She holds her hands up, looking panicked. “I got it now! I know how to do it. I’m just rusty, I swear.”
I shouldn’t be smiling right now.
