“You don’t have the merch?” the guy with his back to me says.
Ivan takes a step forward. Mia subtly moves closer to Carmen. “This time next week, you’ll all be out of freaking minds you’re so high. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is we already paid for it,” Billboard Guy says, pushing past him to stand with his friends.
“And you’ll get it,” Carmen insists. “Jesus, calm down a little. I thought you guys were cool.”
Her indignation, surprisingly, seems to placate them. If I’d known conflicts could be solved by a scolding from a pretty young woman, I would have hired Carmen years ago.
“When will it get here?” Billboard Guy asks.
“We’ll be in contact before Wednesday,” Ivan confirms.
“And until then?” Neck Tattoo says, leering at Carmen. “How am I supposed to entertain myself?”
His arm reaches out to touch the debutant, but Mia is on him like a flash.
“You want to try that again?” she says pleasantly as she twists his arm around in her hand.
He smirks back at her and pulls her in close. My skin is burning hot as my trigger finger itches and itches. “You jealous, sweetheart? Don’t worry, you can entertain me too.”
Slap.
Carmen Rubio shakes out her stinging hand—the imprint of which is now on Neck Tatoo’s face.
I’d be impressed, except…
“What the actual fuck? You crazy bitch!”
…she just entirely blew her Valley Girl act. Whatever little bubble of calm Carmen had managed to wrangle out of the situation bursts in an instant.
Billboard Guy’s hand disappears into his jacket. The quiet guy in the corner straightens up. The guy with his back to me reaches beneath the desk.
Ivan doesn’t give them a chance to do anything.
Bang, bang,smash.
Three bullets: one for the quiet guy in the corner, one for Billboard Guy. One that was intended for the guy at the desk, but instead smashes through the window behind him.
I don’t bother watching how that plays out.
Mia shoves Neck Tattoo against the wall.
“Back down, Carmen,” Mia barks at her client, who obediently moves into the corner of the room and out of the fray. “St-..t…-right?”
She says something else, but the comms line crackles before sputtering out completely. Shit.
I watch as she pins him down with one hand, and a knife materializes in her other. The blade is at his neck in an instant, but not quick enough to keep him from wrangling an arm free.
You would think, in a life-or-death situation, the bastard would use the opportunity to his advantage. Shove the lethal woman away from him, pry the blade from her hand, anything but…
Reach down and squeeze her ass through her very, very short shorts.
Though I suppose every man has his weaknesses.
Mine is, apparently, my trigger discipline.
The shot streaks through the broken window and embeds itself into his forehead.
