Page 11 of Fiona and the Fixer

I took a step closer, ready to put a bullet in the fuckerand be done with it. With heavy footsteps so I didn’t startle him and have him shoot her on accident, I came forward around the display of travel-sized toiletries.

“Don’t move!” he yelled again, this time at me, eyes flaring wildly. Sweat dotted his brow. Clearly, he was over his head in this, starting to panic. His gun hand shook It had to be his first robbery. Cash from a till at a convenience store, especially one this old and off the beaten path wasn’t worth ten to fifteen behind bars. I’d bet my kidney that there couldn’t be more than two hundred dollars in the drawer.

“Whoa,” I said, trying to redirect the gun guy away from the woman. “No reason to shoot anyone.”

I flicked my gaze toherand what did she do? SHE ROLLED HER EYES. Rolled her fucking eyes. During a holdup. As if I was bothering her. Me. Not the guy with the fucking gun pointed at her.

“Do you mind?” she snapped at me.

Did I mind?Did I mind her getting shot? She was bothered because I was interrupting her from being killed.

“Woman, that’s a gun in his hand.” I pointed with one free hand toward the guy. The other, I kept behind my back, ready to pull out my own weapon.

Her eyes narrowed and if they could shoot daggers, I’d have a lot of holes in me. “Don’t mansplain this situation to me.”

“If there was a situation where it needed to be mansplained, it’s this one,” I countered. “That’s a gun. It has bullets. It makes holes in people.”

In our banter, she took a step forward.

“Don’t worry, this guy’s not going to shoot me,” she said, her bimbo blonde voice gone. Now it was deep and even. So was her gaze on him. Her statement redirected his focus back to her.

The kid had pit stains now he was sweating so hard. If I took his blood pressure, he was probably just shy of stroking out. His judgement wasn’t going to be clear.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, moving closer.

“Stay out of it,” she countered, putting her hand out–toward me–in a stop motion. “Don’t get your fancy suit dirty.”

I sputtered. “Stay out of it? Let me repeat, since it seems like your elevator doesn’t go all the way up, he’s got a gun!”

Oh, she was going to get a fucking spanking. Then I was going to fuck her and let her know who was boss.

“Listen to the man.” The kid got his nerve back, because he smirked. He probably thought he was dealing with a raging PMS-ing woman who would rather be shot than get her period in a day or two. Maybe she was. “Like he said, I’ve got the gun.” He waved it back and forth, proving he had no clue what he was doing or even how to use a damned weapon.

“Nope,” she said. “He might be a big piece of man candy, but men are idiots. You’re both perfect examples.”

The smirk fell away. Shit. She poked the bear. Did she actually have a death wish? Did she come to the mountains to fling herself off a cliff and decided to go out this way instead?

“Oh yeah, you sure I’m not going to shoot you?” He wasrealcocky now. Clearly, he didn’t want any woman to tell him what he wasn’t going to do.

I knew the feeling.

Get down,my ass.

Except I really wanted to know the answer to that question, too.

“Yeah, I’m sure, because the safety’s on, you moron,” she countered, tipping her chin toward his gun. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see if she was right or not.

I watched porn.

It wasn’t really my thing, but what guy hadn’t in his lifetime? I had some kinks I liked, but I never, not once, knew that a hot chick taking down a fucking armed robber was one of them.

Because the next few seconds were like the best porno I’d ever seen. No. Better. With a casual flick of her wrist, she threw the hot coffee on him. The dark brew splashed over his face and torso, the arm with the gun.

As he screamed and raised his hands to his scalded face–shooting anyone forgotten–she stepped up to him, kicked the back of his knee with a well-placed side kick so it buckled. He dropped.

Holy shit. I was instantly rock hard.

Another front kick between his shoulder blades had him fall face first to the worn linoleum. She swept at his gun with her sneaker, so it slid across the floor and beneath a potato chip display.

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