Page 11 of My Violent Valentine

He sighs loudly. “Okay, fine. I was checking in on Aidan at his school Valentine’s party. Happy?”

Oh my god. That is so cute. What is happening to my psycho killer right now?

He glares. “Don’t even start with me right now, Mina.”

I pretend to zip my lip, lock it, and toss the imaginary key over my shoulder even though I want so many details right now.

“How was he?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible.

“The love of his young life just rejected him, and my first thought was to burn the school down.”

“Awwww, poor little guy. Are you okay?” I ask with mock concern.

“Fine. Listen, I’m sure you can guess from the giant snow storm that the flights are all grounded.”

“Yeah, I checked online.”

“So we’re going to have to drive. We’ll talk kill logistics on the road.”

“I don’t know, Brian…” I say. I’m not exactly excited about driving in all this snow and ice.

“We’ve got snow tires. It’ll be fine.”

“We do not have snow tires on the black government-looking vehicle you insist upon driving around.”

“We’re not taking that,” he says cryptically.

“Then what are we taking?”

“You’ll see. We have a whole garage of suitable transportation.”

“Be honest with me, Brian. Are we going on a cross-country killing spree?”

He chuckles. “I’d hardly call it a spree. I thought we’d pop off a few gas station attendants here and there on lonely patches of old highway, stab a motel clerk... Maybe hit a bank or two to mix things up.”

“Funny,” I say.

“I’m a funny guy. Nobody appreciates my humor.”

“Poor baby, such a rough day you’ve had.”

“Where are our bags?” He is all business and very ready to kill people.

“By the front door, did you not trip over them when you came in?”

“I’ll take them out. Just grab your jacket and meet me at the big garage at the side of the house.”

I go downstairs and bundle up. Ten minutes later, I’m in the big garage.

“Is that a parka?” Brian asks when he sees me.

“I’m cold! I’m sorry I can’t wear the sexy leather jackets when it’s 5 degrees outside.”

“You look like a giant marshmallow.”

“I’m a cute and deadly marshmallow.”

“You are,” he says, chuckling. “Get in.”

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