Page 22 of Hero & Villain
It caught it in its mouth and then padded away, casting a dark look over its shoulder before it disappeared into the shadows.
I stayed clinging to him for another long moment until Dirk looked down at my hands gripping his shirt and then into my eyes.
“You good? We’ve got work to do.”
I stumbled away from him, smoothing down my shirt and jeans like they’d gotten rumpled. “Yeah, no, that was super normal. I’m totally not freaked out because a lion just tried to eat me!”
I swallowed hard and tried for a soft, sweet smile. If he laughed at me, I was going to kill him. No lie.
“Yeah, that’s his thing. He holds everyone hostage for food. I’ve got the scars to prove that he’s serious. He wouldn’t actually kill anyone. Unless he wasreallyhungry.” He tugged on my shirt and turned, heading for the door. “I recommend you keep some snacks on you in case of emergencies.”
“Lion emergencies?”
“Mountain lion. Like all weird and dangerous things, he belongs to Jezebel.” He glanced at me before putting on his reflective sunglasses and stepping into the glaring bright sunlight.
I followed, wincing at the light. I needed sunglasses before I developed all kinds of wrinkles from squinting. “He’s Jezebel’s mountain lion? She could have warned me that he was in your garage.”
“She didn’t know. The cat can break into most of the buildings. Except for Nix’s office. One time of his messing up the paperwork was all it took. So, what were you up to with Jezebel?”
“I was sleeping. She kept me unconscious for three days. I should probably go see a doctor, but I feel much better.” I really did. At least other than my heart racing too fast from adrenaline. Fight or flight had never been so confused. And now I had the perfect excuse to find some chocolate. Mountain lions like chocolate, right?
He grunted. “Not having sunstroke or internal bleeding will do that for a person. Not Mink,” he said as I went towards the pink car. “Today we’re taking Fred.”
“Pink Mink? Are all the cars named?” I asked, climbing into the old red Ford truck. Fred Ford?
“More or less.” He put the keys in the ignition. He had a rabbit's foot keychain.
“Why is your car pink? And what do you have with rhymes?”
“Only sometimes. Hang on.” He put the truck in gear and pulled out in a cloud of dust. We rocked down the highway towards the desert while I hung onto the handle and tried to think of ways to seduce him. My mind was completely blank. Not really. I was still spiraling after the mountain lion. And the almost-kiss. Like I’d been distracted enough by being so close to him to forget about the mountain lion. Maybe I was concussed.
“What exactly are we doing?” I finally asked after we’d been bumping along on bad roads for twenty minutes, the city left far behind. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t try to kill me in the middle of nowhere, but either way, I wasn’t too worried.
“Mm. The long final race of the season is called the Three-Hundred because it takes place over three hundred miles of rough desert terrain. Certain areas can’t be covered by the larger vehicles, which is where Jezebel and her menagerie come in. It sounds crazy when you try to explain why sections of Jezebelriding a camel are necessary, but it looks good on film. On those spots, the only media coverage will come from drones, but they need to be charged periodically. We’re making sure the charging stations are up and running.”
“Cool. Your warehouse seemed to have a lot of other things besides drones. What else are you working on?”
He flashed me a lazy grin. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
“You’d have to try.” I leaned closer to him, trying to see the tech guy beneath the muscles and chiseled jaw. Flattery. I needed to feed his ego. I looked up at him through my lashes and tried to look delicate and feminine. “Why do you do it? If you’re so good with tech, shouldn’t you be at MIT or something, solving world hunger?” Ugh. I sounded like such an idiot. That was a good thing, right? Men loved to feel smart. But did the geniuses who left all of that behind to beat people up in the desert love to feel smart? They just were smart. Brilliant actually. But his weakness was playing hero.
He laughed and patted my head. Somehow, I didn’t bite him. “I’m not sure that’s what they do at MIT, but I doubt it’s that. I’m not a saint. World hunger is for better people to worry about.”
That didn’t go too badly. Head pats were good. That meant that he didn’t see me as a threat. I tried to look impressed. “You’re not a saint, but you are a hero; otherwise, you wouldn’t have caught me when I fainted.” Gag. I was going to throw up right now. That came out so breathlessly and sincere. Like I really was all flushed and hot at the idea of him picking me up and carrying me away. Although it had been pretty mind-blowing. But only because I had heatstroke and possible internal bleeding.
He gave me a broad grin. “Passed out.” He took a moment to let the words sink in before he added, “Fainting is much prettier than that.”
I flinched and then turned to face the window so I wouldn’t accidentally slam his face against the steering wheel. So it hadn‘t been pretty, huh? Of course it hadn’t been, because he was right, I had passed out, but to say that to me? Rude! Not heroic. He clearly didn’t respond well to direct flirting and flattery, because otherwise, he would have said something nice. Like, ‘You make me want to be a hero,’ but no.
I took deep breaths and watched the endless sagebrush roll by. He wasn’t being particularly heroic this morning, and that’s what my whole entrance was supposed to set up, but I had managed to get into close contact with him, so maybe I should count it as a win.
He sighed heavily and tugged on a strand of my hair, like he wanted me to look at him. Nope. I wasn’t getting distracted by his flexing arm muscles when he didn’t think I was pretty.
“Pinkie, I’m not a hero. Those don’t last very long in this world. I might have a guilt complex, but I don’t have a hero’s.”
I smiled slightly but didn’t look at him. That was a hero complex talking. Specifically, he now felt bad for making me feel like I wasn’t a cute fainter. I slowly turned to look at him and gave him a cute, soft smile. I hoped that’s what it looked like. “Okay, although taking responsibility for the helpless damsel and challenging Jezebel is definitely heroic. Even the dragon couldn’t be worse than her. Who knocks people out for days?”
He gave me a sharp look. “Right? Jezebel is the circus. Trix isn’t bad at all. She’s got a tough exterior, but on the inside, she’s a puppy.”
