Page 58 of Hell In A Handbasket
“Mmhm.”
“You tired? You’ve still got to administer your factor tonight. I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’ll do it later.” I feather one last kiss over his lips, hovering for a moment more and basking in the warm caress of his perfect green eyes. Then I turn and settle in his lap, twisting and folding at the ribs so I can fit, and though it’s uncomfortable as hell, I wouldn’t trade it for a thing.
Finally, I meet Soph’s challenging stare. “Tell us one of yours.”
“One of my, what?” She tosses an M&M onto her tongue and chews, mouth open, like a cow. “I’m not a medical examiner, Chief, and believe it or not, but I don’t often touch dead bodies.”
“She orders them, though.” Jay laughs, ignoring her warning glare. “Way back in the day, before I knew who she was, I was working for someone I thought was a dude. Went by the name Ace. We communicated by email only, and when it was time, Ace ordered the hit, gave me the details—where the target would be, who they would be with, that sort of stuff—and when I did what I did, I’d email back and say it was done.”
“You realize we’re cops, right?” Fletch drags a hand over his face. “Literal fucking homicide detectives, and you’re admitting to crimes we’re duty bound to arrest you for.”
“What’s said at camp stays at camp,” he taunts. “Besides, Minka’s side-shit implies we’re allblood inat this point. So, I was working for this hard ass, Ace. Taking orders, doing as I was told. Meanwhile, I had this smokin’ hot dancer who lived in the apartment above mine. Rockin’ body. Legs for days.” He grabs Soph’s leg and extends it, like we need visible proof. “She was kinda hard to read. Quiet. Pretended she wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Pretended,” she scoffs. But she drops her leg and curls into his side, hugging his arm between hers. “To this day, I still prefer to have nothing to do with you.”
He rolls his eyes. “So Ace is tossing down orders.Stay away from the broad upstairs. Focus on my work and stop thinking about my dick. Then I was sent on a new mission, ended up at a strip club on the hunt for this dude who was caught up in the trafficking trade. I followed him into a private room, ready to get a few answers, and slit his throat. And would ya guess who his stripper was?”
“Ace,” Ellie snickers, her skin glowing under the moonlight. “I imagine that was quite the surprise.”
“Ya think? First time I ever froze on the job. This broad is on the dude’s back, her blade at his throat and her ass on display. And then we were outrunning bullets and trying not to die.”
“You couldn’t breathe.” Soft, sweet, she glances up at him and smiles. “Remember when you couldn’t breathe? We ran into the tunnels, and you were about to drop.”
“Cos my lungs weren’t working properly.”
“Kinda like the chief’s weren’t working today.” She brings her focus back to me. But her teasing expression is gone. Her mockery, dissolved. “Even the largest, strongest soldiers aren’t immune to that shit. But if they’re lucky, they’ll have someone on their wings who knows how to help.”
Archer’s heart thuds beneath my ear. Constant. Steady. Powerful.
“So that’s your story?” Cato lounges on a camp chair and throws his ball into the air. Up. Down. He catches it and throws it again. “Stripper slits a dude’s throat and bangs her boyfriend when they get outside.”
“Shut up, child.” Soph scoops up a rock and tosses it into his lap. “The adults are talking.”
“The adults are boring. Let me know when you’ve got a story worth telling, ballerina. You call me a child, yet my stories are darker than yours.”
“We attacked Mancino’s compound,” Troy inserts smugly. “Then, convinced the prick to hire us for protection.”
Sophia snorts. “That was a fun day.”
“Quite terrifying for me,” Ellie drawls. “Seeing as how I was inside the freakin’ house that was under attack.”
“Means to an end, babe.” Troy crushes her to his chest. “Means to an end.”
“Besides,” Soph adds. “We didn’t know you were in there. Which was probably a good thing. I would’ve gone soft if I knew you were at risk.”
“And going soft would’ve botched the mission,” Jay finishes.
“We should play a game of truth or dare.” Jen jumps to her feet, unbothered by her wound or Corey’s grunt of exasperation. “We’re camping, and we can’t even play with fire. So truth or dare?” She covers her eyes, extends her hand, then she spins and spins and spins. Her feet kick up dust, and her nearly six-foot stance sways on the third or fourth rotation. Finally, she stops with her finger pointing directly at Felix, then she uncovers her eyes and smirks at her choice. “Hmm… Truth or dare, Felix Malone?”
“Are we seriously doing this? We’re playing games?”
“It’s fun,” Jess argues. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not a fucking child! If my enemies found out I’m a badass only ninety-seven percent of the time, cos I’m playing games in the other three, my reputation would be ruined.”
“We know who you are,” Micah snorts. “Your enemies know. That’s what scares them most of all. Your unpredictability is terrifying to them, and the fact that you’re strapped with enough firepower to wage a war is a concern. That’s the fuckin’ problem.”
