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“I would’ve beaten him,” I pointed out. “If I weren’t wearing this dress.”
The man in the boat looked me up and down and laughed. “And she’s barefoot too.”
We all stared down to where my once-sexy stockings were torn away, literally, at my ankles. Wordlessly, my hero unwrapped another rope.
“Randall?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck off.”
I could sense a tension between them, but also a camaraderie. This was their thing, I could already tell. They stirred each other’s pots. They got off on it.
“This is the fastest boat you could find? Really?”
His companion shrugged. “What the hell did you expect? It’s a sailing wharf. Mostly yachts.”
“Yeah, well this sucks.”
“Hey, next time you steal the boat and I’ll rescue the hot blonde.”
He held his hand out to me, to help me board. I took it gratefully.
“This hot blonde was in the process of rescuing herself,” I chimed in. “Just so you know, I didn’t ask for anyone’s help.”
The bearded guy chuckled. “I love the way you left the word ‘hot’ in there.”
“Well if the shoe fits...” I grinned back at him.
CRACK!
Something on the boat snapped. Or splintered. Or broke under tension.
“.50 cal?” Randall asked, looking casually back at the hill.
“Most likely, yeah.”
“Time to go, then.”
I followed my dance partner’s gaze backward. The lights of the palace made it look even more beautiful from this distance. As I watched, a flash of yellow muzzle fire burst from somewhere high atop the castle wall. Less than a second later, a hole exploded in the boat’s floor, two feet from my foot.
“Holy fuck!”
I dove down, crouching low behind one of the back-to-back double seats. Neither of the guys seemed concerned about cover as they pushed us off from the dock.
“Damn,” said the man called Randall. “If only I had my Win Mag…”
“W—What’s that?”
“It’s the rifle I’d use,” he replied calmly, “to put a bowling-ball sized exit wound into that fucker shooting at us.”
Another shot split the night. This one erupted in a plume of water, right where the boat had been only two seconds ago.
“The both of you should get down!” I cried.
Randall was looking back through a pair of sleek black binoculars now. “Sweetheart, if he puts one on you that seat’s going to offer you all the protection of a paper condom,” he said. “Shit, it’d drill a hole right through the engine block, and still do enough damage to—”
WHIIIRRRRRRRRRR!
