Page 31 of Bad Men

Neither of us said another word while she dabbed an alcohol swab over the damaged skin. Being a thirty year old hardened criminal didn’t stop me from wincing at the burn that followed. Mia lifted the digits and lightly blew on the wounds, scattering tiny prickles all the way up my arm. It was followed by a generous smear of Polysporin and wrapped with gauze.

“Better?” she asked once her task was complete.

It wasn’t. My hand still hurt, but with the gauze, it was now impossible to hold my gun. That was the reason I hadn’t wrapped the thing myself.

But she was peering at me with big, hopeful eyes and I didn’t have the heart to tell her as much. Plus, I didn’t think she would understand.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Better. Thanks.”

The smile she gave me wasn’t like the others. It was sad and I didn’t like it, but then she was leaning forward and wrapping me up in her arms, and I couldn’t move. This wasn’t seductive or enticing. This was a hug, an act offered for no other reason than to comfort me. I didn’t know what to do even while my brain screamed at me to shove her away, to tell her that was against the rules.

“Be careful,” she whispered into the side of my neck. “It may just be a hand, but it’s your hand and I don’t like seeing you hurt.” She pulled back to stare into my face, hers containing a little grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ready?”

I could only nod. What else could I do? I knew I should text Davien right then and there and call the whole thing off, but I didn’t. I did nothing but wait while she locked up the diner and followed me down the street.

My long list of bad judgment calls continued when I let her into Davien’s Mustang and shut her in. The ribbon I’d slipped between Ernie’s door and the handle remained in place, a sure sign he hadn’t escaped. The complex had two main doors. The other one was in the back, but over the years, the yard was loaded with abandoned garbage that now blocked anyone from actually using the escape. The windows on the first two floors were barred up. So, unless Ernie had jumped down from an upper floor window and made a run for it, he hadn’t used the front.

I got in behind the wheel and waited.

“What are we doing?” Mia asked from the next seat.

“Waiting,” I mumbled, never taking my eyes off the building.

She followed my gaze and squinted at the grimy building through the windshield. “Who are we waiting for?”

“Ernie Russo. He owes Eduardo money,” I added, knowing what her next question would be.

“So, this is a stake out?”

I shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Should I go? I don’t want to distract you.”

Her skin was warm and soft under the wrapped hand I recklessly placed on her knee. “Stay.” I glanced at the clock. “He should be crawling out of his hole any minute.”

Like most parasites, Ernie lurked in the shadows, waiting for his next victim. I’d visited him before, roughed him up a bit to pass along the message, and the guy still stuck to his schedule as if Christ himself had passed it on to him. Most people got smart. They thought they could shake me by rerouting their day. Not Ernie. I almost appreciated that. Made my job easier.

“Are you going to kill him?”

The question had my attention redirecting to the figure tucked into the shadows pooling across the passenger’s side seat. Even in the darkness, I could just make out the glint of her eyes watching me.

“Maybe.” It all depended on whether or not Ernie had the money. I didn’t tell her that. “Want me to take you home first?”

Her head tilted. “Won’t you miss him if you leave?”

I would absolutely miss Ernie, but I didn’t want her watching me cap a guy, either.

“I can get him later,” I answered.

“Won’t Eduardo be mad?”

I glanced away, preferring not to look at her when I told another lie. “I’ll handle it.”

Her hand settled gently over mine. “I’ll stay, but can you just let me know if you’re going to kill him?”

I opened my mouth to tell her there was no way in hell I was going to let her watch a guy get blown away, especially by me, when my phone chirped. It took some maneuvering to unearth the thing from my back pocket with a bandaged hand, but I dug it free and skimmed the text from Alejandro, Eduardo’s consigliere.

“Dinner’s cancelled. Ernie can’t make it.”

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