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She nods and points to the kitchen. “Pantry, behind the oatmeal.”
Quietly, I make my way into the kitchen and grab the revolver. It’s already loaded, six bullets. Better than nothing. Through the window above the sink, the tall bastard sneaks past, shotgun in his hands. He glances inside and we make eye contact.
His widen.
My gun raises.
Before he manages to turn, I get a shot off. BANG. It strikes him in the shoulder. He twists and collapses with a yelp.
Suddenly, the front and back doors burst open and a handful of Satan’s filthy Animals pour into Claire’s house. I fire once towards the front to buy us half a second. Grabbing Claire’s wrist, I yank her up the staircase. A pair of goons storm up the steps after us, but I drop the first one with a slug to the chest and he knocks the others over like bowling pins.
We dive into her bedroom and I slam the door closed behind us. Adrenaline courses through my veins, provides a bizarre clear-headedness in which an amusing thought occurs to me. “Not what one usually imagines when they think of starting a relationship off with a bang.”
In spite of herself, she chuckles. The adrenaline’s got her loopy, too. “Are we in a relationship?”
“After all this, it’d be a waste to walk away, don’t you think?”
I pull her into me and we kiss.
I pray it’s the first of thousands, instead of our last.
