Page 27 of Dangerous Command
“Booger Armageddon,” he said. I cringed. Ugh. The names with these series. “But if you see any new ones for Rollerblade Rocketeers, get that too. And—”
A shadow flicked through the back of the store. My breath caught in my throat. Mack kept talking, but I stared at the shelves, waiting for the shadow to move again.
“Mom?” Mack asked.
“I have to go,” I said quietly.
“Okay. Call soon. I miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
I hung up quickly, stuffing the phone in my pocket. “Hello?” I asked, stepping forward. “Is anyone in here?”
There was silence for a moment. Then a hand covered my mouth, pulling me forward. I threw back a foot, trying hard to bash into the man’s legs, but he gripped tighter, his prickly skin rubbing against me. Musty sweat smeared on me, his heavy breath. I twisted my body, but his arms pressed tighter around me.
I had a gun in my purse. I just had to—
“Say goodbye,” he said.
The cold blade of a knife twisted to my throat. The gun. I needed my gun. This had to be one of Muro’s men. But what were they doing in a comic shop? Unless—
A bullet zipped past me, landing in the man’s shoulder. Another in his forehead. It was so quick that it was hard for me to process that the stranger had been shot,not me.
Derek stood with his legs braced wide, his arms straight, a gun in his hands. Relief swelled through me.
“Derek?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “How did you know I was here?”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, gazing down at the mess. A heap of clothes. I didn’t want to acknowledge what it was.
“You don’t carry a gun with you?” he asked. “We’ll change that.”
“Excuse me?”
“Apparently, you need it.”
This was ridiculous. “Yes, I carry,” I said. “I was about to pull it out—”
“When I stepped in,” Derek finished.
“Yes.”
Derek came closer, then kicked the body until the man was lying on his stomach. He checked the neck, but there was no tattoo indicating he was one of Muro’s. Blood pooled on the gray tile.
“Muro’s?” I asked.
“Hard to say. Muro might be working with the bare minimum. Hiring people he doesn’t know.”
That made sense. But then something struck me. “What are you doing here anyway?” I asked.
“The owner called me. Pays for protection.” Much of the city paid the Adlers, so that made sense. “Someone had threatened him. I answered the call; it’s what I do. But what about you, Maddie? What are you doing here?”
I looked away. “Buying books. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I’ve never seen you with a book before.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s because I’m always working.” Which was mostly true.
