Page 20 of Brandon’s Mate

“Not without a taste of that sugar.”

Kitty switched her phone to her free hand and slid it into her back pocket.

Caleb jerked her sideways, right up against his body. Kitty grabbed his thumb in a special-ops hold and twisted it. He let go her arm and yelped in pain, unable to move without breaking the bone in his thumb. She slipped her other hand under his leather vest and grabbed the gun out of his shoulder holster, then brought her elbow up and slammed it into his throat.

He slid to his knees, making strangled noises. She hoped she hadn’t crushed his larynx. That always made such a bad first impression.

Nope. Still breathing. But his thumb had definitely snapped on the way down, so go Kitty.

His buddy moved in on her, and Kitty cocked the gun and aimed it right at his smirking face. “I wouldn’t, sugar.”

Chapter 7

Everything went still.

“Sugar” tried to smirk at her, but he was starting to look nervous. “Okay, sweetheart, we got the message. Put down the gun.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come on,” he said. “A cute little thing like you ain’t really gonna shoot anybody.” He tried an ingratiating smile.

It was an epic fail, but it didn’t stop him from running his mouth. “What would your momma say if she could see you like this?” He held his hand out. “Why don’t you just give me the gun, and you can go along and look for your boyfriend.”

There was a barely audible murmur from the panthers’ table. “If there’s anything left of him.”

A cold knot filled Kitty’s stomach. If they’d hurt Brandon, they were all dead. Every last one.

Kitty tilted her head, fixing the crows’ sorry faces in her mind. “You’re right,” she said sweetly. “My momma would be very disappointed in me, acting this way. She doesn’t like guns.”

“Well, there you go then.” He took a step toward her, hand still out.

“In fact, my momma would have lost patience with you long since, and you’d be scattered across the floor in bloody pieces by now.”

He froze.

She gave him a feral, crazy smile. “Lucky for you, I don’t want to get blood on my shirt. It’s new.”

Caleb had gotten his breath back, though he was still trying to stop the blood pouring from his mouth. “You bith,” he snarled, staggering to his feet. “Fucking thoot her.” She must have gotten a few teeth, too. Excellent.

His friend’s hand moved ever so slightly toward his own holster, and Kitty moved her aim to his crotch. “Bullet holes heal, but do balls grow back? That’s what I’m wondering.”

A quick glance showed that the panthers hadn’t moved from their table. The woman behind the bar had stopped slicing fruit, but didn’t seem inclined to join the battle.

The way to the door was clear. Time to go.

Kitty backed up, still keeping the crows covered. The panthers were now in her field of vision, but they didn’t seem to be interested in stopping her.

One was staring at her, stone-faced, but the other was lounging back, arm across the back of the booth, a small smile on his face.

He met her gaze, and shook his head with a tiny snort.

“You’re something, aren’t you?” he said. “Sure you don’t want a job?”

Kitty shook her head. “This place is more fun than I thought it would be, but I’m still going with ‘no.’”

He shrugged. “Then you ought to go find Ray.” He glanced at the clock behind the bar. “Better hurry. He might need your help right about now.”

Kitty had no idea what the hell that meant, but it tightened up the cold knot in her stomach.