“Then, you’re right. I’m not telling you shit.”
I threw my car into reverse. “Then, be prepared for me to start digging, because once I latch onto something, I don’t stop until I have every single answer I seek.”
“Answers that are the truth, or answers that fit whatever narrative you believe to be true?”
His question caught me off-guard. “Both.”
He scoffed. “Spoken like a true slave to the system. Just get me to the fucking clubhouse.”
“Will you at least tell me how the hell you managed to get out of the station without having to post any sort of bail?”
He shook his head. “None of this is something you wanna get into, sweet cheeks.”
“How about you leave that decision to me? And don’t ever fucking call me sweet cheeks.”
That was when he looked over at me and raked his gaze down my form. “You’re tougher than you look, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
He turned his stare back out the window. “You’re an idiot.”
And before I knew what the fuck I was doing, I reached into my purse and pulled out my gun. “You sure about that?”
“What the hell!?”
I cocked it as I turned down an alleyway. His entire body stiffened as I pulled into a shadow and turned to face him. I pointed the gun directly at him and leveled my eyes, trying my best not to think too hard about what I had just gotten myself into.
“What? You going to shoot me since you didn’t get your way?” he asked.
My face sank. “This is how things are going to go. You’re going t—”
He smirked. “You really don’t want to do that.”
“Do what? Get the information I’m seeking any way that I see fit?”
He leaned forward. “If you take that shot, you better make damn well sure that you kill me. Because if you don’t? I have the perfect shot from my hip to your chest. Got that?”
And when I looked down, I saw that I wasn’t the only one holding a fucking gun in my hand.
Shit.
I had definitely screwed up.
ELEVEN
BENDER
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Aria had never shot a gun in her fucking life. She was just like every other petite, blonde little idiot running around California nowadays. Having a gun made her feel safe, but if anything else she’d end up killing herself with her own god damn weapon.
I cocked my gun and moved it so that she could see it plainly—clearly—as a chuckle fell from my lips.
“Now, let go of your gun gently, and I may just forgive you for your sins,” I said.
She locked gazes with me for a while, but eventually she relented. She uncocked the gun and shoved it back into her purse, but I kept mine trained on her. She inched her hands into the air and it allowed me a beautiful look at her body stretched out for me.
She wasn’t laying down, but the view was still spectacular nonetheless.
“All right,” I said as I uncocked my gun and holstered it, “now that we’re on the same level, let me see your gun.”
