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“I could kill you,” Daryl said.

“I’m not that easy to kill,” Diesel told him. “You should know that. Give me the gun.”

Daryl squeezed off a shot that hit Diesel in the leg, about three inches above his knee.

Diesel looked down at the hole in his jeans and shook his head. “This is getting old,” he said. “This is the second time I’ve been shot this week.”

“I meant to shoot you in the heart,” Daryl said, “but I’m not used to this gun. Hold still while I try again.”

I grabbed the lamp off my bedside table and took two giant steps closer to Daryl. Daryl turned toward me, I whacked him in the face with the lamp, and he crumpled to the floor.

Diesel stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at Daryl. Blood was gushing from Daryl’s nose onto his shirt and my bedroom carpet, and his eyes had rolled back into his head.

“Nice,” Diesel said.

“Did I kill him?”

Diesel nudged Daryl with his foot, and Daryl moaned.

“Nope,” Diesel said. “Not dead. Mostly you just rearranged his face.”

Daryl blinked to focus his eyes.

“I had a good run,” Daryl said.

Diesel nodded. “You had a good run.”

“And I saw her in her underwear,” Daryl said.

Diesel grinned. “Something to remember.”

Diesel hoisted Daryl to his feet and held him steady. Blood was still dripping from Daryl’s nose, but it had slowed to a trickle. Diesel’s jeans were caked with blood where he’d been shot.

“Are you okay?” I asked Diesel. “You need to get to the ER. You have a bullet in you!”

“Yeah,” Diesel said. “And digging it out is always a bitch.”

“Always? How many times have you been shot?”

“Occupational hazard,” Diesel said. “Not a big deal. I’m a fast healer.”

“Me too,” Daryl said. “Do I still have a nose?”

“I have to turn Daryl over to the appropriate agency,” Diesel said. “I’ll get looked at by a medic in transit. And I’ll be back after I deliver Daryl. We have unfinished business.”

“Me too,” Daryl said. “I’ll be back, too.”

“Not on my watch,” Diesel said.

“Your watch will end,” Daryl said. “My life work will continue.”

I stopped Diesel at my front door and pulled him aside. “Do I have to worry about Daryl coming back?” I asked him.

“No,” Diesel said. “You have to worry about me coming back. I’m batshit lucky at Old Maid.”

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