Page 41 of My Sister is Going to Kill Me

She dropped PK’s hand and started scrabbling backward. Her foot slid on something and shot out from under her, knocking her onto her back.

This was it. Game over. She lay supine, knees throbbing, waiting for the rattlesnake to strike. She could already picture herself being lifted on a stretcher, a handsome paramedic sliding her onto the floor of a helicopter and sucking the venom from her thigh as they flew to safety.

Instead, a flash of blond hair and muscle launched in front of her and crash-landed her reverie.

“Got it!”

Thor thrust a pair of barbecue tongs toward the snake’s head and clamped down, pinning it to the ground. He held the tongs steady as the snake bucked and writhed, its furious jaws snapping at the dust. His other hand snatched up its tail close to the rattle, stretching at least four feet in the air.

“Y’all okay?” His drawl held an appealing dash of concern.

Mandy sat up carefully. PK looked dazed, like her. But there was no blood. No bites. They both nodded.

“You got lucky,” Thor said. “This here’s a Grand Canyon rattlesnake.”

Mandy waited for him to explain what lucky meant. Maybe it wasn’t poisonous. Or perhaps it was especially deadly and her dreamy paramedic would have had to give her mouth-to-mouth in addition to sucking on her thigh.

“These cuties only live here, between the rims,” Thor said. “That rose-pink coloring on its scales? You won’t see it on any other rattlesnakes in the world. Rarer than pigs in heels.” Despite her throbbing fear and pain, Mandy was charmed by the gap between his front teeth, the oddity of this mountain man who didn’t get the memo that rattlesnakes are not to be messed with nor described as cuties.

“Anyone want to see a snake?” he called out.

Big Pete, Stefan, and Lucinda hiked up, and Thor started educating them on the features of the rare rattler. PK, whose face was rapidly transitioning from shock to disgust, yanked the sheet off his makeshift lean-to and draped it over his backpack and the soft cooler, hiding them from view.

Mandy rubbed her left knee, which had banged into a rock when she fell to the ground. It didn’t seem bad. Maybe a bruise. She reached under her sandal, groping for whatever had made her slip earlier.

It was PK’s hat, covered in sand and dust.

Mandy gathered her sarong around her, concealing the hat in the folds of the fabric. “Do you have anything to help with bruising?” she asked PK.

He looked at her, then turned back to the soft cooler, rummaging around. “I think I’ve got a rosehip calendula tincture in here somewhere . . .”

While he clicked through bottles and vials, Mandy poked her head under her sarong and flipped PK’s hat over. There was a message outlined in thread, bright white against the red dust.

EVERYONE IS REPLACEABLE

Maybe they’d gotten mixed up with the wrong goddess.

Chapter Nineteen

Liv knelt behind a raft, furtively applying sunscreen to her face, while Mandy told her what she’d learned and seen inside PK’s hat.

“Thank goodness we aren’t allergic to puppies,” Liv said. “But I’m surprised Babette would threaten PK. The man dedicates his entire life to her needs.”

“Honestly, it didn’t seem that brutal after the texts he showed me,” Mandy said. “Maybe this is just the way she operates. The weirdest part is that PK seems fine with it.”

“Kicked dogs love their masters,” Liv said.

“He played it off, but—”

“Maybe your goddess is more of the murderous, vengeful type than you thought?”

Mandy shot her a defiant look. “She talks about this in Unleashed. Female leaders are chronically underestimated. CEOs like Babette have to express themselves forcefully to encourage others to do their best work.”

“Sending a competitor to the hospital? Everyone is replaceable? Cross me and you’re dead too?”

“I admit it doesn’t sound encouraging.”

Liv wiped the last of the sunblock on her pants. “You did good with PK, Mand. More than good.”