Page 7 of Sizzling

“I’ll have to pass on that offer, sugar,” she replied with a thick Southern accent, making that last word sound as sarcastic as she meant it to be. “I prefer my men on the right side of the law and mentally stable.”

He chuckled as if enjoying this entire conversation. “Sweetheart, the law is always on our side, and mentally stable is overrated.”

She cocked one eyebrow at him. “Perhaps, but the dark, twisted shit in your eyes isn’t something I’m drawn to. I prefer the”—she paused, her eyes shifting to me—“sexy ones with a smile you can trust. I’ve had my fill of darkness.”

Was that a proposition?

“Don’t let his face fool you. I’ve seen him slice off a man’s dick and shove it in his mouth until he suffocated on it,” Thatcher said with a sadistic laugh.

She didn’t flinch as she continued looking at me. A small lift of her shoulders, and she glanced back at Thatcher. “And I’d bet my life that the man deserved it.”

Ah fuck. Don’t do that. Don’t make me like you.

Tearing my eyes off her, I looked toward Stellan just as he reached for the Glock hidden beneath the tux jacket he was wearing. Shit! I moved past Briar, taking out my own gun as I quickly assessed Stellan’s reason for making this public.

Thatcher was opposite me, walking with his normal unaffected swagger as he grinned that unhinged, amused one he always had when things were about to go south. He lived for this shit. If he got to kill someone, he’d be happy. Especially if he got to use the knife in his left boot instead of his M220 that he favored if he had to use a gun.

“Seems our friend here has an issue with us,” Stellan said loud enough for us to hear him. “Why don’t you boys take him for a little reminder?”

Jameson’s hand was on the butt of his gun, but he’d not pulled it out yet.

Thatcher came up behind him. “Pull it out,” he said, leaning in close to him. “I dare you.”

The shudder than ran through Jameson as he paled even further would be entertaining if I wasn’t fighting the urge to look back and make sure Briar had gotten out of the way. She wasn’t my problem, and she’d asked for this shit, messing with a man like Jameson.

“I said I’d have it to you next week,” he stuttered, his eyes swinging from Stellan to me.

Stellan tilted his head slightly to the left. “Did I say you could speak?”

The other guests were leaving. I saw them exiting as quickly as they could. Hopefully, they all cleared out so we could get this handled nice and tidy.

“The crazy one is gonna kill him, isn’t he?” Briar’s voice was too close.

What the fuck was she doing? Why hadn’t she left, like a sane person?

I tensed, but didn’t take my eyes off Jameson.

“You need to leave,” I said through clenched teeth.

“I’m not moving. There are too many guns drawn.”

“No one is going to shoot you,” I replied, annoyed. “Everyone else is leaving. Go with the crowd.”

She sighed. “Listen, handsome. I know you don’t like me. I can see it in your eyes. So, excuse me if I don’t trust you to protect me.”

This woman. Seriously? I didn’t have time for this. My focus had to stay on the scene in front of me. If she wanted to stay here and put herself in danger, then it wasn’t my problem. I’d warned her.

“I have my gun,” she said, still too fucking close to me.

“You’d be dead before you could pull it out of that ridiculous, shiny purse of yours if someone decided to take you out.”

She let out a soft laugh that went directly to my cock. Dammit.

“Do you underestimate all women?” she asked.

Jameson’s eyes swung over in my direction again, and I saw the jealous flicker in them as he took in Briar’s close proximity to me. He thought she was working with us. I only had time to read his expression before his hand tightened its grip on the gun. He pulled it out with more speed than I’d expected. Fortunately, I was still faster.

Turning, I wrapped an arm around the frustrating woman behind me and took her down to the floor with me as the gunshot rang out, flying over our heads. I recognized the silenced shot that came next and the thump of the body that followed. I knew they hadn’t killed Jameson, but Thatcher had put him down. We would get our money, and then he’d die.

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