Page 94 of Five Fingers of Death

I headed down the hall, still holding her in my arms. She hadn’t let go since I picked her up on the way out, and I wasn’t sure that was going to change anytime soon. A few people gave me curious glances, but went on their way, but it was when I entered the conference room that things got interesting.

Lock stopped mid-sentence, staring at me in confusion. Then the whole table turned and watched me warily, but it was Johnny who got up and came over with a grin on his face.

“Hey, Carli Sue. What are you doing here today?”

Carlie Sue? “That’s not her name.”

He shot me a stupid look and immediately went back to my daughter. “Daddy couldn’t let you go, huh?”

She beamed at him, refusing to let go of me. “He needed me to come with him.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Johnny asked.

She looked at him seriously, all traces of humor gone. “To protect him from the baddies.”

A few chuckles filled the silence, but were quickly squashed with a single glare from me.

“Of course you will. Do you want to sit with me?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

“No. I’m staying with Daddy.” She tucked herself even further into me and Johnny eyed me warily.

I shook my head slightly. We’d talk about it later, and he’d no doubt kick my ass for causing her trauma that would last for the next ten years.

“Okay, well, let’s get back to the agenda,” Lock said, clearing his throat.

I took a seat at the end of the table, shifting Carli so she was on my lap, facing the table. She put her arms up on the surface, staring at Lock intently. He started to speak, but glanced at her and shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t every day a four-year-old sat in on meetings and could intimidate the hell out of one of us.

“Uh…Where were we?” Lock asked, shifting through his papers.

“Protection detail for Michelle Frazier,” Patrick said, pulling the focus back to the meeting.

“Right. Mrs. Frazier walked in on her husband being—” Lock’s eyes flicked to Carli’s and he cleared his throat. “Unalived. When she tried to flee, she was held at—” Again, his eyes flicked to Carli’s. “Pew pews. The…baddies searched the residence for something, but when they didn’t find it, they?—”

He clenched his jaw, trying to figure out what to say. I smirked at him, finding the whole thing kind of funny.

“—they played a game of…scratch-off on the canvas of the woman’s outer regions,” Lock hedged.

Everyone else glanced around, trying to hold back their laughter at his description.

“What was the message?” Chase asked, always down to business.

Lock turned to the screen and clicked a button, showing a picture of a bloody woman’s chest with words carved into it. I immediately covered Carli’s face with my hand, glaring at Lock for showing that kind of shit in front of her.

“Seriously?” I snapped. “You couldn’t say gun, but that you show?”

He fumbled with the remote, quickly shutting it down. “Shit. Sorry. I’m not used to tempering my words or our information because we’ve got little ears around!”

“Daddy, why is he worried about saying gun? You have a gun.”

“I know, baby girl.”

“You say gun all the time.”

“I do.”

“Is he afraid of the word?”

I held back a chuckle. “Maybe.”

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