Page 66 of Fiona and the Fixer

Her lip quirked. “It’s in my fridge. And no, she’s unharmed.”

“I don’t understand the problem, sweetheart.” I reached up tentatively, as if she was a skittish animal, and stroked her hair.

She sighed. “It was the first time anyone ever said they were proud of me.”

Oh.

Oh shit. I knew Big Mike loved me. Knew he was proud of me, even though I was a fixer who took care of dead bodies and amputated fingers. He retired and literally handed his business to me because he knew I could handle it.

Fuck being cautious. I pulled her into my arms. Hugged her tight. Cupped the back of her head and whispered into her ear. “You amaze me.”

Yeah, that was what she did. Made me happy. Made me horny. Made me want to kill. I wanted to destroy the world for letting Fiona down over and over.

“Are you saying that because I’m armed?”

I laughed but saw her sarcasm for what it was. Deflection. “Why do you think compliments are lies?”

She shrugged. “I’m not used to them.”

I sighed, kissed the top of her head. “Get used to thembecause when I say them, I mean it. When Dottie says them, I’m sure she means them, too.”

She didn’t reply. I gave her a lot to think about. Tofeel.

I held her for a while, standing in the middle of the empty street, my car blocking the road. No one bothered us.

“You can’t go back in there,” I said, figuring I’d pushed her enough on emotions. “The pickle place.”

“Why not?” she asked the front of my sweatshirt.

“This is a small town. Everyone remembers everything. If they aren’t on to you, they won’t forget you. You’re the annoying woman who’s got an obsession with pickles.” I frowned. “That sounds filthy, and perhaps accurate. I like it, as long as it’s my pickle you’re obsessed with.”

She pulled back, looked up at me and gave me an eye roll. I loosened my hold, but didn’t release her. I liked her where she was.

“That’s because you said I was pregnant.”

“You blew it, sweetheart,” I added, but said it softly so she understood I wasn’t mad.

“We,” she clarified.

I stayed quiet, because I hadn’t been the one to walk into the store solo.

“Fine. I blew it,” she grudgingly agreed. “Then we need someone else to help.”

“Dottie?” she suggested.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Did you know she was the office manager for the Coal Springs police department?”

“That explains a lot,” she said, staring up at the pitch-black sky. “She’d take the pickle people a casserole andthen blow her cover asking too many probing questions while they ate it.”

I didn’t know Dottie as well as Fiona, but it sounded pretty darn accurate. “True. We need someone clueless. Someone those guys will never, ever think would be onto them.” I rubbed my chin, then smiled. “I have just the couple.”

“Who?”

“Hannah’s parents.”

While I didn’t want to see any harm come to them, I didn’t mind too much putting them in possible danger. They could be collateral damage. I knew Jack wouldn’t care and I doubted Hannah would either.

They’d had the head of the Las Vegas mafia holding a gun on the entire family in their living room and they hadn’t been fazed.

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