Page 114 of Not Mine to Rescue

That was an insult. We reached beyond the county. “And why does that matter?”

“Because you’re not scared. I despise scared men.”

And yet… she had to hold a gun on them? That would scare the piss out of most. “Everyone gets scared.”

“Not you. You broke Christian’s hand. And he’s one of the richest dealers around.”

I couldn’t piece together who she was talking about at first. Then it hit me. Her ex…the poor idiot I’d borrowed her from for a night. “I ain’t rich.” I made certain to point at the dilapidated shed to the left. “Case in point.”

“But you will be. Everyone knows your club controls the drug pipeline into Hagerstown. Then there’s the guns and⁠—”

I cut her off. “You don’t know shit.” I took a step toward her, hoping she’d pull that trigger. Sure the bullet would likely careen around like a ping pong ball in my guts, but I’d get my hands around her throat first.

Even better, Fly would hear the shot and come running.

Okay, hobbling, but still, he’d be out here sooner or later and her and her big mouth would be gone. Permanently.

She took a step back. “Don’t come closer.”

I took another step. “Why not? Don’t you want me?”

Winter froze. “You… Do you mean that?”

Hell no. I meant to stay alive and get that gun out of her hand. “You know so much about me that you’ve got me at a disadvantage. Maybe I could…” I deliberately let my eyes trail down her body to her crotch. The gun wavered between us like a hazy cloud. My focus may have been on the vee at the top of her legs, but my attention was on that blob.

It dipped as she relaxed. I took another step closer, bringing my eyes up to meet hers. I forced a smile. “There you are.” My fingers uncurled, ready to act. But I kept my movements lazy and slow. The same trick had worked on a mangy fox once.

Touching her was going to be worse.

“So I am.” Her gaze went a little wider, the fear smoothing out as curiosity, or maybe desire took root.

I must have moved too quickly, because that softness disintegrated. She rushed to take a shooter’s stance and held the gun solidly as she pointed it at my chest. “None of that. We’re going into your house. Got it?”

My hands flew up, palms front. “Sure, anything you say.” I had a .45 in there. It was tucked into a little hiding hole in the mattress. I’d get her on her back, distract her, slip my hand down there and… Yeah. Plan formed. With that, I retreated carefully. I kept my pace equal to her advance, but I did not turn my back on her. I didn’t trust her or that peashooter in her hands. The trick was to keep her talking.

“Aside from the drugs and position, why me?”

She pointedly looked at my belt.

“That’s it? A fat dick?”

Winter shrugged. “Until I can find better.”

“Way to make me feel special.” I hadn’t meant to mutter that out loud, but it snuck out. I turned to unlock my front door.

The cold metal of the gun pressed into my spine. “You don’t have to feel special, just comply, got it? I want to be on top and you’re my ticket there.”

“If you wanted the top, all you had to do was ask.” Fuck my smart mouth. Luckily, she took it as teasingly seductive, not bitter.

“We’ll explore that, too. Move.”

Sure thing. Bedroom, gun, flip this bullshit scenario around.

Hell, maybe I’d kill her while I was at it. First, I had to determine if she told anyone she was coming here.

“I suppose you and your girlfriends get a big laugh out of this role-playing, don’t they?”

“Role playing?”