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Randy’s shoulders tensed. “You just pulled some low shit even for ’round here,” he said, words clipped. He only talked like that when he was really riled up. “And, yeah, I saw what she did to Carol Ann.” He took a step toward Debbie, and it warmed my heart to see her back away in response. “She kicked Carol Ann’s ass, so I’m thinking you best get your ass outta here before Angel gets up.”

That sounded like the perfect cue for me to do exactly that, though it probably would’ve been a lot more impressive if I hadn’t been swaying. Damn it, my left side still didn’t want to behave, but a familiar ripple of hunger told me my parasite was on the job.

“She ain’t gonna do shit,” Debbie said, then brandished the stun gun. “And you best back off!” She looked around at the crowd for support, but frowned when she saw that most were simply watching or recording the entire event for future shits and giggles.

A mild stir in the crowd behind her drew my attention long enough for me to see the familiar blond head of Philip. Relief shot through me, quickly followed by worry. The rugged, clean-cut operative and former soldier would stand out in this place like a lion among kittens, and the last thing I needed was for Randy to get spooked or for even more fighting to break out. Yet even as I caught Philip’s eye and gave him a slight It’s cool head shake, I realized he wasn’t attracting anywhere near the attention I’d expected. He had a bit of a slouch in his shoulders now, and an unhurried air that fit with the overall vibe of the crowd. The instant he caught my signal he smoothly shifted direction to amble to the bar as if he’d been headed that way the entire time.

Fortunately all Debbie saw was that the crowd wasn’t as firmly on her side as she’d hoped. Scowling, she swung her attention back to Randy. “Why you have to go get in the middle of things?” she whined. “You should be taking up for poor Carol Ann!”

Randy folded his arms over his chest, ignoring the stun gun completely. “Carol Ann took a lot less hurt than she was planning to give out,” he said. “I’d say that’s even. It’s you buttin’ into things now, so you’d best back the fuck off.” He sounded laid back again, but I knew him well enough to know he was still pissed. Right now I was fine with letting him handle things. Even though my left side wasn’t buzzing anymore, I felt just enough brain hunger to know I wouldn’t have any zombie super speed going for me.

Debbie hesitated, defiance flickering in the face of Randy’s staunch defense of me along with the lack of overwhelming crowd support. Glaring at Randy, she waved the stun gun in my direction. “She got off easy!” she announced, then turned and flounced off toward the bathroom.

For an instant I considered charging after her to tackle her face first into the grimy linoleum, and even took a step forward to do so, before deciding it wouldn’t be the best idea considering my overall goal here. Eyes on the prize, Angel.

With the excitement over and no blood to clean up or ogle, the onlookers drifted away to return to their games or conversations or drug deals or whatever the hell they’d been up to before. No one was giving me Fuck You looks anymore, so apparently I’d proved myself by decking Carol Ann. It didn’t make a lick of sense, but I understood it all the same.

The bartender said something to Philip and gestured toward the back room. Philip nodded and headed that way without a single glance in my direction as he passed. My guess was that he planned to duck out the back door, though I already saw girls angling in his direction like sharks scenting hunky blood in the water.

I gave Randy a fervent smile. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “There’s dirty fighting, and then there’s fighting dirty, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” I rubbed the crook of my left arm where it still had a bit of tingle. “It’s okay. I’ll get her back someday when she’s not expecting it.”

Randy chuckled, and the last of the anger slipped away from the set of his shoulders. “Carol Ann’s gonna be pissed when she can think straight again,” he said, smile tugging at his mouth that told me he didn’t really care and that he’d enjoyed the scene as much as any of the others. Probably would’ve enjoyed it more if we’d ended up in a classic roll-on-the-floor catfight where we ripped each other’s clothes off, but I could forgive him that since he’d stepped in when I needed the help.

“What are you doin’ down here?” he asked, cocking his head. “Come back for a little of what I got?”

Here I’d been worried that Randy would tell me to fuck off, kind of the way I’d told him to fuck off the last time I’d seen him—right after he asked me to steal drugs from the Coroner’s Office for Clive to sell. We sure as hell hadn’t parted in a nice way. Then again, we’d broken up and got back together so many times over the four years we’d dated, he’d apparently taken it in stride just like all the other breakups, even though it’d been over a year.

Hell, if he really thought I wanted to get back together with him, who was I to set him straight? An uncomfortable tickle of guilt fluttered in my belly for leading him on, and I couldn’t entirely push it away. Randy was a loser, sure, but we’d been losers together, and right now he was a loser I needed. So, what the hell did that make me?

I just gotta be careful, that’s all, I told myself as I put on a smile for him. “Yeah, something like that.” That part wasn’t a lie. I was back for a little of what he got.

He moved closer. “Where’s that cop asshole you been fucking?”

“We broke up,” I said and shrugged, doing my best to keep the a

che of it off my face.

Lingering tension in his face relaxed in what seemed like relief. “I like the sound of that.” He leaned against the post beside me. “You need another beer?”

“I can’t stay long,” I said, and set the barely touched beer down on a convenient table. “Can I come by your place in a bit? There’s something I need to ask you.”

Pleased surprise lit his eyes. “Sure you can.” He grinned. “I got answers for all your questions.”

“I bet you do,” I said, unable to resist a low chuckle at the good ole Randy charm.

The women’s bathroom door opened, and a sniveling Carol Ann came out, flanked and supported by her two cronies. Randy glanced at her then gave me an easy smile. “It’s gonna take me a while to clean up the mess here. How ’bout I see you in an hour or so?”

“An hour or so it is.” I gave him a wink and a smile, then turned and sauntered out, sashaying as much as my skinny hips would allow. As soon as I made it outside and the door closed behind me I blew out a breath and let myself slump. Philip pushed off from the wall where he’d managed to be damn near invisible in the shadows, judging by the startled reactions of the junkies clustered near the corner of the building. They skittered off like roaches in sunlight when Philip moved toward me.

“You sure you’re okay?” he said as he raked an assessing look over me.

“Yeah. Thanks for having my back,” I replied, then grinned. “Worth getting zapped to deck that skanky bitch.”

Amusement lit his eyes. “I don’t doubt it.”

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