Page 94 of Baker

“What the fuck’s going on?” he asked as I got in the truck.

“Car’s been out here from time to time for about a month. Maybe longer.”

“Might live above the bar.”

“I doubt it. It’s here at weird times.”

“Wanna run up from here?” he asked.

“No. Hit the parking garage.”

He glared at me. “Just run up from here.”

“Parking. Garage.”

He put the truck in gear and stomped the gas pedal. “Okay motherfucker.”

Minutes later, much to Cash’s displeasure, we were on the elevator together. Me to get my keychain, and him to piss. When we left, Andy was still asleep. I feared she was still home, and wondered how Cash may react to her Sunday morning presence.

When we go the door, I realized I didn’t have my keys. Frustrated that I hadn’t locked the place, I turned the unlocked handle and pushed the door open.

When the room came into view, I froze. Some cocksucker stood at the edge of kitchen with a pistol pointed at Andy’s head. Despite fifteen years of training for such an occasion, there was nothing I could do without putting her at risk.

My mind went from recognizing the threat to boiling over with anger. “What in the absolute fuck is going on?” I seethed.

“I’ll kill this bitch.” Facing me, he snatched her off the bar stool and put her in a chokehold.

You’re fucking with the wrong girl, motherfucker.

You are a dead man. Either way this goes, you die.

My jaw went tight. All I needed to do was clear my pistol from my holster. Hidden by the hem of my tee shirt, it was neatly tucked into the waist of my jeans, in a quick-draw holster. If I could get him to divert his eyes away from my waist, I’d drop the cocksucker where he stood.

“I fucking swear.” He pressed the pistol to the back of Andy’s head. “Don’t take another step, Baker.”

I needed one second. One extremely long second. That was all. With my heart in my throat, I prayed that he not move a muscle. If he did, the woman I loved would be a goner.

Come on, girl. Look at me. Look at me, baby. When I say this, pull away. Run. You’ll know it’s a lie as soon as it rolls off my tongue.

“Her?” I lifted my hands to my chest. “I don’t give a fuck, kill her. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“I’m not fucking around, Baker.” He fixed his eyes on mine. “I’ll put one in the back of this bitch’s head.”

She was facing me, standing in front of him. The only parts of him that were exposed were his head and his left shoulder. My vision narrowed. All that existed was him, and me.

It was a one in a million shot, but I had to take it.

I had to.

Slowly, I began to lower my hands.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, motherfucker!” he shouted, pulling her even closer to his center mass. He bent his knees and crouched behind her, leaving only a small portion of his forehead and eyes exposed.

I didn’t have a clear shot. Not without putting Andy at risk. I was fucked. So was she.

The concussion from a gun being fired deafened me. Startled, I drew my pistol, but it was too late. Andy’s face was plastered with blood. She fell from the man’s arms and collapsed on the floor.

I pulled the trigger instinctively, hitting the man in the center of the chest.