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“Very.”
“Do you think he’s in trouble?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Carly said. “Maybe he’s got problems. Like, problems that would make him desperate. Maybe he’s in troublewith his bosses, or something. Whatever it is, it has to be enough that he’s willing to push you like this.”
“Well. I’m about to find out. Supposed to meet him, later tonight.”
“Well, here,” Carly said, grunting her way out of the Kevlar vest. “Take this.”
“My vest?”
“Yep. Will it still work if it has this bullet stuck in it?”
“Yes, it will still work,” Piper said. “But I’m just meeting with Harris. He’s going to yell at me, not shoot at me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to have an anxiety attack if you leave this house without wearing it. As bad as things sound? And you already got shot once doing all this undercover wild girl stuff. So you wear it for my peace of mind, if nothing else.”
“Fine. Fine,” Piper said, leaning back into the couch. “I just need to close my eyes for a second.”
A second turned out to be several hours. The stress of recent events had clearly taken more of a toll on her than Piper wanted to admit to herself. She’d always tried to take everything on herself, never admit to having limits, but the reality was, she’d been pushed and stretched and strained too far.
When she woke, Carly was elsewhere. Piper’s Kevlar vest was sitting next to her on the couch, with a little sticky note on it written in Carly’s hand.
Out for a walk, it read.Wear it. Turtle Girl.
Piper huffed out a little laugh and heaved the vest over her shoulders. Carly was right, the weight of it did feel good. And with everything up in the air right now, better to wear it and not need it then to need it and not wear it.
In fact, now that she was in a get ready for anything mood, Piper began thinking that she should be bringing more than just a bulletproof vest to this meeting with Harris. Her pistol, for starters, which she tucked into place in its holster under herjacket. A few extra magazines of ammunition went into her pockets, and then, while she was on a roll, she strapped on her ankle holster and filled it with her little backup pistol.
She couldn’t imagine that having that kind of firepower would remotely be necessary just to get chewed out by her piece of shit supervisor, but having all those weapons on her gave her a boost of confidence that she desperately needed right now. Slowly, as she got herself ready, she could feel herself going from feeling crushed and on her back foot, to feeling more and more confident and sure of herself.
Harris. Son of a bitch had no right, no right at all to do any of this to her. The more she thought about it, the more Harris had been clearly wrong about everything.
As obsessed as he’d been with Pony and the MC, as sure as he’d been that they were in league with Navarro and the cartel, he’d been wrong. And rather than step back and re-assess, he’d reacted to being wrong by doubling down and trying to force her into breaking the law and violating every ethical molecule in her body.
Screw him. Screw him and his bullshit. It was time that he heard just how full of shit he was, and she was just the woman to let him know.
Piper paused just long enough to leave a sticky note for Carly where she knew her sister would find it… on a half-opened bag of chips.Be back soon, she wrote, and addedYou’re the Turtle Girlfor good measure.
By the time she kicked her motorcycle to life and drove out to the small park to meet with Harris, Piper was feeling a lot more like herself. She knew what was right and wrong, and she wasn’t going to stand for any more abuse from Harris. He could kiss her ass in the middle of Times Square if he didn’t like it.
She had the package of heroin with her, and strode across the park through the cool night air with it gripped in her hand.It almost felt like an old-timey cannonball that she could fire straight into Harris’s chest.
He was sitting on a park bench, the darkness pushed away by a single street lamp nearby. She wanted to vomit at the sight of him. Son of a bitch. Manipulating her like this. Pushing her towards becoming the worst version of herself. She was done with it. Done with him.
He spotted her coming, rose to his feet as she strode toward him.
“You are in serious shit,” he said.
“Oh, you’re pissed?” Piper snapped back at him, refusing to be intimidated. “Well, strap in, asshole, because two can play at that game. Here.”
She threw the heavy paper bag at him, hard enough that Harris had to twist and flail to catch it without it hitting him.
“Here’s your fuckingheroin,” she said, throwing the words at him as hard as the paper bag.
“Keep your voice down!” Harris said, looking around at the empty park for any possible witnesses.
