money.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed. A mid-argument mugger.
One corner of Luke’s edible mouth rose. “And you said Meiers Corners was safe.”
“It is. This is probably a kid wanting gum money.”
“Hey.” The man shoved forward, pushing a wave of air before him stinking of testosterone. “I’m no kid. See this gun? Give me your cash.”
Mr. Ski Mask had stepped into my kill zone. I glanced at him, wondering if it was worth the bother to sweep his gun arm. His mask was beakier than usual. Almost boat sail proportions, like Marrone’s monolithic bodyguard. I frowned.
Luke said to the mugger, “One minute.” And insanely, turned back to argue with me. “You don’t have to deal with Marrone if you don’t want to.”
“I do if I want to get my down payment.” And find out why he was shoving into my business.
His fists landed on very fine hips, his eyebrows winging high. “You’d risk your life for mere money?”
“Not mere money. Real money. A small community’s ER doesn’t pay that well—or at least not this small community’s. Earning that down payment will take forever.” And in the meantime, Julian might sweep my buildings out from under me and Lizelle. I mirrored Luke, putting fists on hips. “Unless I want to be using a walker when I sign those mortgage papers, I have to earn real money. Which means dealing with Marrone.”
“Hey! Fuck.” The guy waved his gun. “This is a mugging. You people know what a mugging is?”
“Just wait a minute, will you?” Luke shook his head at me as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re insane. You’d work with that psychopath because of a building? ”
Stung, I blurted, “It’s not just any building.” I clamped my mouth shut. Everyone might know I wanted the townhouses, but if anyone found out how desperate I was for them, Old Man Crahn would raise the price through the roof.
Luke arched a brow fully as chiding as Lizelle’s. “What, exactly, do you mean by that?”
“ Hey. I said, gimme your cash.” The mugger cocked the gun, a useless gesture. The gun would cock and fire with the pull of the trigger. “And all your phones and credit cards and shit.”
With an impatient pursing of lips, Luke turned again to the mugger. “And I said , one minute.” To me, he said, “Alexis, if you need money there are more reputable ways of earning it.”
I sucked in an affronted breath. “If you’re implying what I think you are—”
“No! No. I’m not impugning your morals.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s Marrone’s morals that are suspect.”
“Money. Now!” The mugger slammed the gun to Luke’s temple with a thud.
Luke rolled his eyes. In a smooth move so fast I barely saw it, he swept the gun aside and punched the guy left-handed as he grabbed the gun with a sort of roll of his right wrist. While the guy reeled back, Luke ejected the ammo clip onto the sidewalk with a whoosh-clack, popped the round out of the chamber, then dropped gun and bullet clattering to the concrete. “Now, Alexis. As I was saying. Marrone is—”
“You fucker. ” The mugger roared and tore off his mask, revealing the man from inside the café, the one with the sail of a nose. “You are dead. ”
Chapter Eight
The sail-nosed man flicked fingers at the shadows between buildings in a “join me” motion.
Four more black-jacketed guys bled from the darkness. The first goon snapped out a pair of wicked blades.
Adrenaline hit my system, giving me a kick in the diaphragm. I sawed a few breaths, brain going hot.
Luke was the opposite, leaning back, cool and controlled. “You think you can take me?”
“Hey,” I said. “Us.”
“Yeah, we can take you, dickwad. Five against one. I’m liking those odds.”
“Hey,” I said again. “Five against two. ”
“ Zero against two,” Luke said. “Because you guys are assholes—big, puckered, zeros full of gas.”
Behind sail-nose, two of the
“Great.” I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed. A mid-argument mugger.
One corner of Luke’s edible mouth rose. “And you said Meiers Corners was safe.”
“It is. This is probably a kid wanting gum money.”
“Hey.” The man shoved forward, pushing a wave of air before him stinking of testosterone. “I’m no kid. See this gun? Give me your cash.”
Mr. Ski Mask had stepped into my kill zone. I glanced at him, wondering if it was worth the bother to sweep his gun arm. His mask was beakier than usual. Almost boat sail proportions, like Marrone’s monolithic bodyguard. I frowned.
Luke said to the mugger, “One minute.” And insanely, turned back to argue with me. “You don’t have to deal with Marrone if you don’t want to.”
“I do if I want to get my down payment.” And find out why he was shoving into my business.
His fists landed on very fine hips, his eyebrows winging high. “You’d risk your life for mere money?”
“Not mere money. Real money. A small community’s ER doesn’t pay that well—or at least not this small community’s. Earning that down payment will take forever.” And in the meantime, Julian might sweep my buildings out from under me and Lizelle. I mirrored Luke, putting fists on hips. “Unless I want to be using a walker when I sign those mortgage papers, I have to earn real money. Which means dealing with Marrone.”
“Hey! Fuck.” The guy waved his gun. “This is a mugging. You people know what a mugging is?”
“Just wait a minute, will you?” Luke shook his head at me as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re insane. You’d work with that psychopath because of a building? ”
Stung, I blurted, “It’s not just any building.” I clamped my mouth shut. Everyone might know I wanted the townhouses, but if anyone found out how desperate I was for them, Old Man Crahn would raise the price through the roof.
Luke arched a brow fully as chiding as Lizelle’s. “What, exactly, do you mean by that?”
“ Hey. I said, gimme your cash.” The mugger cocked the gun, a useless gesture. The gun would cock and fire with the pull of the trigger. “And all your phones and credit cards and shit.”
With an impatient pursing of lips, Luke turned again to the mugger. “And I said , one minute.” To me, he said, “Alexis, if you need money there are more reputable ways of earning it.”
I sucked in an affronted breath. “If you’re implying what I think you are—”
“No! No. I’m not impugning your morals.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s Marrone’s morals that are suspect.”
“Money. Now!” The mugger slammed the gun to Luke’s temple with a thud.
Luke rolled his eyes. In a smooth move so fast I barely saw it, he swept the gun aside and punched the guy left-handed as he grabbed the gun with a sort of roll of his right wrist. While the guy reeled back, Luke ejected the ammo clip onto the sidewalk with a whoosh-clack, popped the round out of the chamber, then dropped gun and bullet clattering to the concrete. “Now, Alexis. As I was saying. Marrone is—”
“You fucker. ” The mugger roared and tore off his mask, revealing the man from inside the café, the one with the sail of a nose. “You are dead. ”
Chapter Eight
The sail-nosed man flicked fingers at the shadows between buildings in a “join me” motion.
Four more black-jacketed guys bled from the darkness. The first goon snapped out a pair of wicked blades.
Adrenaline hit my system, giving me a kick in the diaphragm. I sawed a few breaths, brain going hot.
Luke was the opposite, leaning back, cool and controlled. “You think you can take me?”
“Hey,” I said. “Us.”
“Yeah, we can take you, dickwad. Five against one. I’m liking those odds.”
“Hey,” I said again. “Five against two. ”
“ Zero against two,” Luke said. “Because you guys are assholes—big, puckered, zeros full of gas.”
Behind sail-nose, two of the
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