Page 13 of My Violent Valentine

I can’t believe he remembers it. I thought he would have brushed it completely away.

“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay, then,” I say.

“Okay, then.”

I’m not about to tell him that the death card has shown up four more times since Groundhog Day. And the tower, twice.

7

MINA

After four hours of creative driving, we’ve managed to get out of all the bad weather and snow. It’s still cold outside, but at least there’s no inclement weather now that we’re out of the storm’s path.

The sun set two hours ago, and we’re parked at a gas station using the free WiFi to schedule a flight for tomorrow that will take us to Phoenix which will give us one day to do any last minute in-town recon and setup for the hit on Valentine’s Day. Our targets live a bit farther out in the desert, but it’s not a long drive. Just a couple of hours.

Weapons are weird logistically. We can’t take them on the plane. You can’t exactly carry an arsenal around without questions. A very small amount of our gear won’t be recognizable as anything important when it goes through airport security, but we’ll have to leave all our weapons: knives, guns, ammo, behind. We’ll be leaving the car in a secured parking garage and storing our weapons in hidden side panels inside the SUV. This vehicle isn’t just equipped with snow tires. Brian thought of everything.

Once we get to our final location, we’ll meet up with a guy Brian knows to restock weapons for the job. We’re paying a rental fee. I had no idea you could rent assassin weapons like a 1990’s video store. It feels very retro.

“I need to pee,” I announce.

“Again? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Hurry. We still need to drive a few more hours tonight.”

I’ll be so glad to get to a hotel. “Are we staying in a dump?”

“Of course not. I got us a reservation at a Four Seasons.”

“Are you being sarcastic right now?” With Brian, it’s so hard to tell.

“No. We really are staying at the Four Seasons. And I got us a late checkout. We’re flying out in the early afternoon tomorrow so we can get some sleep.”

“You’re the most thoughtful sociopath I know,” I say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He makes a face like this is too much sweet mushiness for him. I put on a lighter coat from the back seat, get out of the car, and bump the door shut with my hip.

The gas station is in a deserted area off the beaten path. I’m surprised they even had WiFi we could use. The bathroom is inside, though. I get the key from the guy at the counter. There are two stalls inside. I’ve just shut the door on my stall and turned the latch when the outer door opens.

“Brian?”

“No, Sweetheart. This ain’t no Brian. We don’t get pretty little things around here like you.”

I pull a knife from an ankle holster. I would be strapped with guns right now except for the fact that hours of driving and wearing a gun isn’t the most comfortable way to travel. I’m a squirmy traveler anyway.

I jump when he bangs on the door. “Come on out now, Girl.”

Jesus, this cretin. “I’ve got a man with me,” I say, and I cringe at myself for even saying these words. But, it’s true.

“I’m sure he won’t mind sharin’. I took a look at him out there. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement, given that I could probably kill him just by sittin’ on him. I get awful lonely out on this stretch of highway as I’m sure you can imagine.”

I grip the knife harder in my hand trying to think of the best way to get out of this logistically. The cramped space of this bathroom stall doesn’t exactly afford me a lot of options. I could crawl under and into the handicap stall and have more room, maybe? I wonder if I should stand up on the toilet seat, if that angle would offer me any advantage my current position doesn’t.

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