“Little Chip…” he whispered, his voice low and big-mad. “You think you can vanish and leave me chasing shadows? That’s cute. Really cute. But stop it. What do you think is gonna happen? I will tell your brothers you’re alive, and the police force will come for you next.”
He hadn’t told my brothers I was alive yet? Why?
I quirked my brow and studied the mammoth of a man.
“Didn’t tell my brothers? What, you want to keep me for yourself, huh?”
A lightning flash illuminated his scowl, every muscle slick and gleaming. He shoved me back away from him, and I stumbled back a step. Ducking a punch, I elbowed him in the side and danced out of the way.
He got serious when my wandering hands didn’t mind their manners, and his gun was steady in his hand. Lightning lit the scarred, angry set of his jaw. I froze for just a heartbeat, letting him think he had me.
“Oh, goodie,” I murmured, my voice dark and playful. “Get my good side, Liebling. I need a matching set from Roe-Roe-Roe, blow your bro.”
I let him hold my gaze as I shucked off my shirt and the mud streaked across my lean chest. My little bullet scar glinted pale against all slippery muscles. I saw him falter, and that made me grin like a bitch.
Just a flicker.
“Well? I’m waiting. Right here, baby. You sure you don’t want just to spank me with your very thick baton instead?”
Randall growled and snatched my wrist in an unfun way. “Just because I won’t kill your dumbass doesn’t mean you aren’t going back to prison, Little Chip.”
He lowered the gun, but his hands twitched toward his cuffs.
Perfect.
I feigned surrender, allowing him to manhandle me toward him, and I clipped his cuffs and was ready for playtime.
No…bad, Judas. It’s not playtime.
Oh, right, no play time.
“Wait,” I murmured, soft, sweet, and almost innocent. “Before I go, Liebling…I have a question.”
His eyes narrowed, exasperated and irritated with my pure existence. “What now, Judas?”
“What did the weasel say again?” I tilted my head, my crooked grin curling as he paused from clicking the cuffs closed.
His eyebrows shot up. “The fuck? What about a fucking weasel?”
Yes!
My hand dove for his belt, sliding into his pants, my fingers curling around the baton with precision only a lunatic could manage. Lucky me, I was the mayor of Looneyville now that shitbag betrayer Larry had been tossed off the throne.
Whack!
“Pop goes the weasel!” I sang, leaning back, watching him crumple down into the mud with an angered groan.
He was so cute when he was asleep…much less grumpy.
Maybe I can…
“Judas Masters, get your dick in your pants and go to the club.”
I rolled my eyes at the killjoys and sighed, caressing my sweet chocolate giant before stepping away with his gun and baton.
I stood above him, my chest heaving, and my laughter low and predatory with the cracked mania surfacing through. Hisbody twitched in the puddle, rain streaming over both of us. Dark brown eyes framed with fluttering lashes looked up at me as I whispered and leaned close.
“Sleep tight, Liebling…I know you’ll be back, but I’m not letting you get away unscathed next time we meet.”
