Page 67 of GAF Factor

Seriously, my sister…God love her, but sometimes, I could strangle her. “Kill my husband? Really?”

“What? It’s a legitimate question. He put a bomb in your fridge. He had someone drive by and shoot this place up. Why not end him first?”

“Because I’m not a killer,” I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Okay, other than the obvious, name one good reason.”

“Because it’s wrong and I would go to jail.”

“Not if you aren’t caught. And with IKE on your side, that’s highly unlikely to happen.”

“Okay, how about the fact that I don’t want the money if it’s stained with his blood?”

She appeared to think about it. “Nope, still not a good enough reason.”

“Riley—”

“The man tried to kill you twice, Isles. Take him out before he takes you out. You’re going after him anyway. What did you think you were going to do? Find him and then ask him politely to stop?”

She had a good point. I didn’t know exactly what the plan was other than to find him.

“I hadn’t really asked that many questions.”

“Well, maybe you should do that next time with a man like IKE. I doubt he was going to hand him some cash in exchange for a promise that he’d stop trying to kill you.”

“Okay, maybe I was a little naive…”

She quirked an eyebrow at me.

“Fine, I was very naive.”

“So, what are you supposed to pack?”

I cringed as I thought about what IKE said. “Nothing that I can find in my closet.”

After a very tearfulgoodbye to my kitten and a punch to the shoulder from Riley, I tugged my luggage out the front door to where IKE stood smoking a cigarette. He quickly put it out and grabbed the handle from me, flashing me a smile.

“Just the one bag?”

“Should I have packed more?”

“Don’t women usually take four bags with them on trips like this?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been what you would call your typical girl.”

“So, I won’t find ten pairs of shoes in here and a pound of makeup?”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “When have you ever seen me wear makeup?”

He seemed amused by that. “You’re right. You don’t wear makeup.”

“And the boots I’m wearing are all I packed.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. “Those won’t go well with a dress.” He turned and started down the steps with my bag in tow.

“A—” I gave chase, wondering when exactly I was supposed to wear a dress. “You never said I had to wear a dress!”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

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