Page 16 of Half Cocked

About as impossible as all the blackouts, right?

I could hear the distant shouting but my eyes refused to focus on anything, forming blobs and colors instead of actual images.

By the time I got my bearings, I realized I was in a car with a blown-out windshield, the distinct scent of gunpowder waftingover the interior. I didn’t see blood. Which was a good sign. But I also wasn’t driving…

“Dani! You with me?”

I glanced to my left, my nails sinking into the faux leather seat as Connor weaved in and out of back streets and alleyways. Guy was trying but it was obvious he didn’t know shit when it came to evading a tail.

“Dani!” he repeated, his eyes flicking in my direction before returning to the road.

I needed to think, not talk. But I could tell that was a luxury I didn’t have at the moment. We were running from something… more likely someone… and I had no doubt it had to do with me.

“Pull over,” I grunted as I tried to blink the spots away from my vision.

“Like fuck am I pulling over. Are you insane?”

“Actually, I just might be. But that has nothing to do with what I’m telling you. Pull the fuck over and let me drive before you get us both killed.”

“Baby girl, you ain’t in any position to drive—something we need to discuss later. In the meantime, keep your pretty little ass in that seat, that smart mouth closed and fucked-up head down.”

Yeah, like any of that was gonna happen.

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted a pair of headlights tailing us in the not-so-distant distance. I couldn’t determine the make and model with all the fog. But that was to our advantage. It was hard to shoot what you couldn’t see.

“Who’d I piss off this time?”

“Don’t you remember?” Connor muttered under his breath, his knuckles turning white as he clung to the steering wheel like it was a lifeline.

“Not exactly…” I shrugged. Though it was more like not at all. I remembered the storage room, my pussy sure as fuckremembered the sex—I could still feel my thighs quivering—and I remembered popping out into the back alley.

After that, I materialized in this car. Speaking of…

“Where’s my bike?”

“Yeah, didn’t exactly have time to ask you all the specifics.”

“I loved that bike, you know. And some asshole is probably gonna scrap it for parts.”

Conner pinned me with a glare that told me that was exactly the wrong thing to say. “Sorry. Next time we’re getting shot at, I’ll make sure to grab your shit first.”

“That’s all I ask.” I grinned, because why the fuck not? Being miserable wasn’t gonna get us out of this situation any quicker. I had to admit it was nice seeing pretty boy so rattled. That cool as a cucumber facade was getting old.

A sharp left turn had me slamming against the passenger door before wiping the smirk right off my face. Guess I touched a nerve. Either that or my new favorite sex toy really was terrified.

“Look, Connor, just pull over and let me out. We both know they’re after me, not you. I’ll lose 'em on foot and you can go on pretending like this didn’t happen.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Dani, they shot up my fucking car! You really think I can just pretend that didn’t happen?”

Fuck, I hated feeling guilty. I usually didn’t feel anything at all. So it was like a weight sitting on my chest.

“I’ll get your car fixed up—I know a guy. I know several guys and they all owe me favors. Give me a few weeks…” I patted the seat for emphasis. “And your baby will be like brand-fucking-new.”

A second sharp left had us nearly teetering on two wheels before Connor slammed on the brakes, backed into a garage, and jumped out the driver’s side door. He stalked towards the farentrance, peering through the glass before sending a shitty glare in my direction.

“You really think I give a damn about the fucking car?” he hissed as I slammed the passenger door shut louder than I should.

“You said?—”

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