Lace & Lead - Page 7

Gods, she was almost sexy when she was after blood. Peirce shook his head again and looked away from the rear-view mirror, convinced that some wires had gotten crossed in his brain. They’d made it off the river and to the Stallion without a problem; the thugs-for-hire hadn’t set up any kind of perimeter, so it was easy enough to slip away from the area and head back toward Monterrey. If he could just get her to the city, he’d be able to make her disappear until everything else was figured out.

“How are you going to fix this?” Douglass asked, eyes firmly on the road.

“Who cares?” Kai joked. “Money is money.”

Peirce couldn’t help his grin. Kai had a ton to learn if he intended to survive in the business. “We need to talk to Arthur Gregson.”

“And say what?” Now Emmaline was leaning forward, listening intently.

She didn’t need to know all the details.

“That I don’t appreciate having information withheld,” Peirce told her good-naturedly. “If we’d known that many men were coming to collect you, I’d have tripled my price.” He stretched lazily.

Douglass chuckled. “You smart SOB.”

“Why’s he smart?”

Since getting to the safety of the Stallion, Kai had been meticulously drying and checking his explosives’ charges, but now he grinned at Emmaline’s unintentional slight of Peirce. “Your old man hasn’t got any credits. Even if he still wants you back, he can’t afford to retain us.”

“And how is that a positive?”

“I just saved your ass and I’m already having every decision questioned?” Peirce asked, amused by her panicked tone.

Douglass shot him a look that screamed stop-being-such-an-asshole and said to Emmaline, “He’ll have to hire someone else to find you.”

“So they’ll still be looking for me.” Her withering glare was directed at Peirce. “I’m failing to see how that’s a good thing.”

“It’s not that complicated, sweets,” Peirce drawled. “We’re the best. As long as you’re paying us, news’ll get out that trying to find you isn’t the smartest plan.”

“At least, not for anyone who likes to live,” Kai added with a snicker.

She was quiet. Peirce thought that maybe she’d finally seen reason. But when she spoke again, her voice was surprisingly soft. “But doesn’t that mean my father will come after you three?”

Peirce almost believed that she was genuinely concerned. It was a shocking enough revelation that he didn’t respond. Douglass covered for him. The comforting smile he gave her through the rear-view mirror seemed to give her the strength she needed.

“Miss Gregson, please believe me when I say—and I’m speaking for all of us here—that after some of the shit we’ve seen, your father doesn’t even make it within throwing distance of our scary list.”

“Here, here,” Kai crowed.

Peirce grunted his agreement and went back to ignoring her and the strange things she did to his head.

They made it to Monterrey without incident. It was simple to slip the Stallion through the checkpoint once tattoos were shown, stories shared and credits slipped to the Lawmen on patrol; Peirce understood that part of any good business was keeping the right hands greased. A quick trip to the med-centre meant some staples but at least his shoulder was back together. It was going to take some time for the local anaesthetic to wear off, so Douglass and Kai stopped at the open-air market to pick up the essentials while Peirce and Emmaline stayed in the Stallion.

“Play nice,” Douglass teased as he closed his door.

Peirce was glad the man was finally finding his sense of humour again. The wars had been so bad that when he’d first met Douglass, he hadn’t uttered a single word. It had taken years, but Douglass was finally starting to interact like a real person again.

“Can you help me?”

Peirce rolled his eyes and turned back to Emmaline, mouth drying when he found himself looking at

the stays on the back of her corset. She was holding up her hair, exposing the gentle, creamy curve of her neck. A strange, strangled noise escaped his throat.

She looked at him over her shoulder, unaware of just how sexy she looked. Fortunately, her sharp tone ruined any effect. “It won’t kill you to help!”

“And what am I supposed to do, your bossiness?”

“Can you help me loosen my corset?” She may have been flushed, but she hadn’t stuttered over the words.

Tags: M.A. Grant Science Fiction
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