by JB Lynn
I sighed, partially because the adrenaline that had been coursing through me was gone and partially because life was unfair. I was attracted to two guys, one of whom already had a wife or two, and the other who wasn’t the slightest bit attracted to me.
I didn’t speak until we were two blocks from my place. “It’s the next left and then the first right.”
Zeke pulled into the parking lot and stared at the slightly decrepit building. “How long have you lived here?”
“A few years.”
“And you feel safe?”
“I have a dog.”
“Like Fifi?”
“No. Mine’s a Doberman pinscher.” I punched him in the arm playfully. “I can’t believe you called me by the name of Aunt Loretta’s poodle.”
He put the car into park. “You remind me of her, always getting into trouble.” He stared at me. “Are you in trouble now, Maggie?”
I bit back a harsh laugh. I was a hitwoman who’d just failed at pulling off the most important job of her newfound career, I could talk to animals, and I was sitting in a car with my former nemesis, wishing he wasn’t gay.
“I’m fine.”
“I’ve never seen anyone hate another living creature the way Susan hated that dog.”
“She hates all dogs, but Fifi did get the worst of her wrath after she destroyed her memory box.”
“Memory box?”
“It was this old wooden box. One day Aunt Susan left it open and the dog had a field day with the contents.”
“What was in it?”
“I don’t know.” I glanced in the mirror, but couldn’t see the white van. “She always kept it locked.”
“I can still remember her delivering her ultimatum to Loretta. ‘It’s me or the dog,’ ” he said in a falsetto reminiscent of Aunt Susan’s voice.
“And we never saw Fifi again.” I smiled at him. It was nice to have someone to reminisce with.
“I smeared your lipstick.” He reached over and rubbed my lower lip with the pad of his thumb.
My eyes fluttered closed as I got lost in the pleasurable sensation.
“Do you need a ride to the dress shop tomorrow?” he asked, breaking the spell.
Opening my eyes, I found him watching me carefully.
“No. I can do it. You don’t have to go.”
“Alice was pretty adamant that I should go with you. Maybe I can be of a help somehow.”
“Can you convince her to not make me wear a fishy color?”
“I doubt it. My powers only extend so far.”
I resented the implication Alice thought I needed a babysitter for such a simple task. “I can handle it on my own.”
He frowned. “I don’t want to unleash her inner bridezilla by not following her wishes.”
“Fine.” I didn’t want to risk that either. “But I’ll meet you there.”
“Noon?”
I nodded, reaching for the door handle. “Thanks, Zeke. For everything.”
I slid out of the car and tugged down my skirt, scanning the lot for the van. I couldn’t see it. Maybe Patrick, after seeing I’d been delivered safely home, had left. That would be a relief, since I didn’t relish the idea of telling him I’d screwed up the Garcia job and had almost been caught.
I gave a quick wave to Zeke and headed toward my apartment, making a mental note to change my shoes before I tried to walk Doomsday.
“Maggie?”
I looked back. Zeke had lowered his window and was motioning me over.
I tottered over to him. “What’s up?”
“I thought you should know . . .” He trailed off, as if unsure of how to complete his thought.
“Know what?”
“What I was going to say before . . . about how you looked.”
My spine stiffened. I’d thought we were finally getting along and now he was going to insult me? I was a big girl. I could take whatever he had to dish out. “So say it.”
He squinted at my face as though confused by my sharp tone. “I was going to say that you look hot.” His voice deepened. “Really, really sexy.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the compliment. Having a gay guy tell you that you’re hot is kind of like having a grandparent gush about how smart their grandchild is. It’s a nice sentiment, but more than a little suspect.
“Thanks,” I choked out. “See you tomorrow.”
I headed inside, intent on drowning my sorrows in a quart of ice cream.
Best laid plans . . .
Chapter Sixteen
“GOTTA! GOTTA!” DOOMSDAY greeted me as I opened the door.
“I have to change clothes first.”
“Gotta!”
“I know, but I’ve gotta first.”
“How’d it go?” God called from the kitchen.
“Not so well.” I kicked off my heels. The dog followed me to the bedroom.
“But you weren’t caught,” God said. “That’s a good thing.”
Ripping the dress over my head, I replied, “The whole caught thing is debatable.”
“What happened?”
“Gotta!” Doomsday whined.
Instead of answering the lizard, I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed the dog’s leash, and let the mutt out the door.
“Please be a good dog on this walk,” I pleaded. “I’m exhausted and my feet hurt.”
“Good dog,” she assured me.
It was dark out and as we walked, I observed the night sky. “Orion’s out.”
“Onion?”
“Orion.” I started to point out the constellation to the dog and then realized what I was doing. “It’s a group of stars. My sister Marlene was a real astronomy nut. She’d spend hours staring at the stars.” The memory of Marlene, perched on the roof, watching the sky, was bittersweet. She’d had such big dreams, about being an astronaut, about discovering new planets . . . a kid’s dreams. They’d all died the day her twin had been abducted.
The familiar guilt that I’d been watching my mother too closely to keep an eye on the girls tightened like a vise around my chest. Yet another way I’d let down my family.
Hearing footsteps approaching from behind, I whirled around. A man came toward us through the shadows and I was acutely aware that the street was deserted.
“Look mean, Doomsday.”
She wagged her stump of a tail.
“Growl!” I ordered. What was the point of having a big, scary dog if she couldn’t at least look scary? “Protect me. Keep him away.”
She lunged toward the man, practically dislocating my shoulder and dragging me with her.
“No!” I squeaked.
“Easy girl,” the man said fondly, reaching down to pet her.
Patrick.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.” I frowned at him.
“I shouldn’t do a lot of things,” he muttered mysteriously. “Let’s keep walking. Mint?”
He held out a roll of Life Savers.
I took a candy and slipped it onto my tongue.
“They’re wintergreen. Did you ever do that spark thing when you were a kid?”
“What spark thing?”
“When you bite them, they spark. Watch.” He chomped on one to illustrate his point.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“That’s because you’re not standing close enough.”
He stepped closer. I stepped away.
“So what happened, Mags? You go in to kill a man and you walked out with a date.”
“He wasn’t a date.”
“It sure looked like you two were cozy.” A strange note threaded through his tone and I wondered if he was jealous.
“He’s gay.”
“It sure didn’t look like it. He had his hands all over you.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“And you’re totally unaware of how . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “The way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you . . . Never mind. What the
hell happened in there?”
I told him everything that happened.
“So you got caught.”
“Not really.”
“You not only got caught by Garcia’s men, but you were seen by someone who knows you. Sorry to break it to you, Mags, but that’s caught.”
“So what do I do?”
“You cut your losses and tell Delveccio you can’t do the job.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He turned around and headed back toward my place. Even if I’d wanted to go my own way, Doomsday was having none of it. She eagerly turned and followed Patrick, carrying me along against my will.
“Ignoring me isn’t going to change my mind,” I told Patrick’s back.
Stopping abruptly, he spun around. Doomsday kept pulling me forward, which meant I crashed into Patrick. He grabbed my waist with both hands to steady me.
Instead of thanking him, I choked, having inadvertently swallowed my mint. I coughed and spluttered and gasped for breath.
He pounded on my back. Once my choking fit subsided he said, “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was trying to keep from shaking some sense into you.”
“I can do this,” I assured him. “I can kill Garcia.”
“And what if you get caught? What happens then?”
“Then you never have to deal with me again,” I joked lightly. “C’mon admit it, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”
He didn’t answer and I felt vaguely disappointed. I’d hoped he’d say he’d at least miss me.
Finally he said, “I have to leave town.”
“When?”
“Wednesday.”
“But the Garcia wedding is Saturday night.”
“I know.”
“Wait, you’re going to be out of town while I try to do the job?”
“That’s why I’m telling you.” It was too dark to see his expression and his tone gave nothing away.
“So that’s how it is.” Entering the parking lot of my building, I picked up my pace, intent on getting into the apartment as quickly as possible.
He kept step with me. “How what is?”
“You’re going out of town to establish your alibi since you’re convinced I’m going to get caught.” It felt like a betrayal and my hand shook from a mixture of anger and grief as I tried to unlock the door. “I thought you were different.”
He plucked the key from my fingers. “Different than who?”
“Everybody.”
Unlocking the door, he pushed it open. “Everybody who?”
I let go of her leash and Doomsday bounded inside. “Just everybody.” I was going to get my key back and leave Patrick standing on my doorstep, but, like Zeke had earlier, he put his hand against the base of my spine, and propelled me forward.
“I’m not everybody.”
The overhead light was on and it took my eyes a moment to adjust. Meanwhile, he stepped further inside, closing the door behind him and throwing the dead bolt. When he turned back, I could see the tension in his jaw and an emotion I couldn’t identify flashing in his eyes.
“I’m not everybody,” he said again, advancing on me.
Suddenly afraid, I retreated a step and then two, until I found myself backed against the wall. He followed, looming over me. I looked to Doomsday for help, but she was lying on the floor, watching us intently, as if we were some sort of Wimbledon match.
“I’m not your best friend who goes gallivanting all over the world.”
“Alice doesn’t gallivant. She does good work.”
“I’m not your father, always looking to make an easy buck at the expense of your family. I’m not your mother, hiding out in some fantasy.”
“That’s not her fault,” I defended weakly.
“And I’m not Jewel, running away from all of life’s problems.”
“Who’s Jewel?”
“That’s the name Marlene does business under. Jewel.”
He leaned in closer and I felt as though all the air was sucked out of the room.
“I don’t let you down and I’m not everybody,” he whispered. He straightened, allowing me some breathing space, but he didn’t back away. “I’m sorry that my crisis is happening at the same time as yours, but I have obligations too. You’re not the only one.”
“I’m not an obligation.”
“No, you’re a distraction. Right now my daughter needs me. You can understand that, can’t you? A family member needing you?”
I nodded. “Is she okay?”
“Laila just up and left, leaving Daria to move all her belongings across the country. I can’t let her do that alone. Can you imagine an eighteen-year-old all alone driving a moving van across the country? The things that could happen to her?” Concern for his daughter made his voice crack.
I knew what he was imagining. I’d imagined the same things when Darlene had been abducted. In her case, they’d been her reality.
“Of course you have to go with her.” Reaching out, I patted his arm.
“So you understand?”
I nodded.
“You’re interrupting my beauty sleep,” God complained from the kitchen.
“You do know that the secret to a good road trip is to stock up on snacks and tunes, right?” I asked.
“Olives?”
“No. Salty, crunchy, and sweet. Chips, cookies . . . does she have a favorite candy?”
“Red licorice,” he answered without hesitation.
“You’re a good dad.”
“Because I know what kind of candy she likes?”
“Because you’re making this trip with her, even though it was her mom who created the problem. And because of the candy . . . my father would have never known what my fave was. So you’ve got the snacks down . . . what about the tunes?”
“How come you know so much about road trips?”
“I took one with Alice once.”
“And you had fun?”
I shrugged. I’d needed to get away after Darlene’s body had been discovered. I glanced at the family portrait hanging behind him. He turned to see what I was looking at.
“It’s the last picture I have of us all together. My parents, my sisters . . . all alive.”
“You’ve lost a lot.”
I shrugged. “How long do you expect the trip to take you?”
Ignoring my attempt to change the topic of conversation, he said, “There’s still time for you and Marlene.”
“I doubt that.”
“But—”
I placed a finger against his lips to silence him.
He froze.
“For the love of all that is holy, don’t touch him,” God yelled from the other room.
“I appreciate your efforts,” I said. “I really do, but if Marlene wanted to see or talk to me, I’ve been easy to find. So instead of arguing about her, why don’t I wish you safe travels and you wish me good luck, and we leave it at that? Because to hear you tell it, chances are I’m going to get caught and we’ll never see one another again.”
I took my finger away, allowing Patrick to speak.
“Don’t even say that.” He cupped my cheek in his palm.
“Don’t kiss him!” God shouted. “Don’t let him kiss you. Your life doesn’t need one more complication. I don’t need to listen to you complain about one more thing.”
“Kiss?” Doomsday asked hopefully.
“I’m a realist, Patrick. I know your advice is good and your prediction is probably accurate, but I’ve gotta take the chance anyway.”
Hanging his head, he let out a shaky sigh and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Kiss! Kiss!” Doomsday panted.
“I can’t,” I muttered.
“Can’t what?” Patrick asked.
“Oh, this should be good,” God mocked.
I looked up at him, into those familiar green eyes that saw the real me and liked me anyway
. The lie I’d been about to tell was forgotten. I told him the truth. “I can’t kiss you.”
“We shouldn’t,” he agreed. “It would complicate things.”
“See?” God crowed. “I told you so.”
“Kiss,” Doomsday urged.
“We’re complicated enough already.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Patrick or myself.
He nodded slowly, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
I leaned into his touch.
“Then again,” he said in a voice laden with seductive promise, “if this is the last time we’re going to see each other . . .”
“Don’t do it!” God screamed.
“Quiet!” Doomsday barked, stunning us all.
Patrick chuckled. “Maybe we should listen to the dog.”
“Kiss,” she panted.
“Maybe just one kiss?” I suggested.
“It’s a gateway drug,” God grumbled.
Doomsday growled.
“Maybe just one,” Patrick agreed, bending closer as he slid his hand around the back of my neck and massaged the base of my skull, making my knees go weak.
It flashed through my head that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop after one kiss. I knew I wouldn’t want to.
He lowered his mouth toward mine.
I heard bells ringing.
Except they weren’t bells . . . it was an alarm.
Chapter Seventeen
THE ALARM ENDED up being no big deal, just the result of one of my neighbors roasting marshmallows . . . indoors, but it spooked Patrick.
“I can’t be seen!” he shouted, before running out of my apartment.
I didn’t see him again.
Instead I spent an hour milling around the apartment complex parking lot with my fellow displaced neighbors until the fire department gave us the all-clear to return to our homes.
“Home Sweet Home.” I leaned tiredly against the front door once we were back inside, slipping Doomsday’s leash off.
Keeping the seventy-pound mutt relatively still when all she’d wanted to do was chase the fire trucks had worn me out, as had listening to God’s incessant snotty commentary. There was no way I could have managed the dog and his terrarium, so he had perched on my shoulder the whole time, alternating between lecturing about getting romantically involved with the redheaded hitman and telling me how stupid the actions of all my neighbors were.