Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

“But . . . but you can’t do that! You’re some idiot tourist who got lost. You’re not supposed to have a gun.”

Anger flooded her at his words. “So just because I’m a tourist, it’s okay to rob me at gunpoint? You scared the bejeezus out of me. I might have nightmares. I might need therapy. They don’t have a therapist where I come from. So where would I go for that therapy, huh? I’d probably turn to drink or maybe drugs. How would I feed my habit? I’d go bankrupt, be driven out onto the streets. Do you think that’s fair?”

The guy continued to stare at her.

She sighed. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous. If you leave now, I’m going to let you go without shooting you. Okay?”

“Fucking hell, bitch. I need the fucking money. What’s wrong with you?”

“Quite a lot according to Reverend Pat,” she admitted.

“You’re fucking nuts!” He looked around, his breath coming in pants. “Fuck this shit, it’s not worth it. I’ll rob a fucking convenience store instead. Fucking crazy lady.” To her surprise, he turned and ran off.

That was weird. She put her gun away when she was certain he was gone. Big city criminals were odd. Mind you, the only criminal she knew was old Dan, who printed counterfeit money out of his basement. He’d given her a bag full of it to bring with her, claiming she might need it for bribes.

She hadn’t had the heart to tell him that nobody in their right mind would mistake his counterfeit for real money.

Millie took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. She turned to walk away when something caught her attention. What was that? Did it move? Was it a rat?

She stared down at it, trying make it out in the dark. The light from the street lit up some of the alley but down here by the dumpster it was dark.

She stepped forward and heard a small whine. Was that a dog? Aww, poor little thing had to be terrified. Crouching down, she held out her hand. She waited patiently as it finally decided to step forward and sniff at her. Then it gave her hand a small lick.

Wait. She had an idea. Slowly reaching into her bag, she brought out a strip of beef jerky. It was some homemade. Another gift from old Dan. She hadn’t had the heart to remind him that she was a vegetarian. Breaking off a piece, she set it on her hand. The dog snatched it and hungrily chewed at it.

“Poor thing, you’re starving.” She handed him some more. By the third piece, he had climbed on top of her, getting dirty paw prints all over her jacket and skirt.

But she didn’t care.

“Come on, handsome boy. Let’s get you home and dry.” He was so small that he fit perfectly into her handbag.

Just as she was moving to get to her feet, she heard a door squeak open.

“Luther, what the fuck, man?” a masculine voice snapped. “What the fuck are you doing, dragging me out here? I can’t fucking be seen with you.”

Instinct told her to stay hidden. Well, that and the fact that she still hadn’t put bullets in her gun. Sure, she had her stun gun, as well as her pepper spray. But she’d rather not use them if she could help it.

The side of her face started to tingle. No, no, no, the last thing she needed right now was a migraine. Crap. She had to get back to her room and take some medicine. It wasn’t surprising. With the amount of stress and lack of sleep she’d had lately they’d become quite frequent.

But this was really bad timing.

“I needed to speak to you,” another voice replied.

She peered around the corner of the dumpster. Two men stood in the alley. The one facing her was slim-built and dressed in jeans, a shirt and jacket. The other man had his back to her. He was shorter and wider. Could she sneak off without them seeing her?

Not likely.

“About what? Does the boss know you pulled me out?” the man facing her said.

“Do you see him here? He’s got better things to do with his time. I’m fucking taking some initiative. Besides, I’m pissed with him. He’s treating me like a fucking courier. You should see what the fuck is in the back of the van right now. It’s a fucking joke.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. The boss will kill you for this, Luther,” the man facing her snarled.

“He will not!” Luther protested. “And he’s not my fucking boss. We’re equals.”

“Uh-huh, how come you’re doing errands for him then?”

“You listen to me, asswipe, you’re nobody. I could take you out now and no one would give a fuck,” Luther told him.