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At least it’d meant I could always spot her in an instant.
I allowed myself a trace of a smile before I answered. “Old ladies have to make a living too, you know.”
“Sure, I just wouldn’t have expected that living to be in illicit arms.” Lou kicked at a candy wrapper that’d drifted into our path, sending it crinkling away. “It’s not like I really need another gun, you know. I’ve got the pistol Mom gave me, and now I’ll keep it closer at hand. If I decide I want something else, there’s plenty of selection at the mansion.”
I gave a dismissive grunt. “Anything you do there is watched. I think you should own one piece your Mom and her lackeys couldn’t know about. It’s always better to have at least one advantage your enemies won’t take into account.”
“Lo sé, lo sé.” Lou gave a brief shudder. “I know. I just hate lugging evenoneof those things around with me. I’m trying to avoid shooting people, not to give myself more chances to.”
I glowered at her. “If it’s that or someone shoots you, you’d better put all the bullets you can in them.”
The memory of Octavio’s attack at the skating rink flashed behind my eyes, and my gut twisted.Ihadn’t been close enough—I’d been too busy dealing with the thugs who’d jumped me to even try to defend Lou directly.
If it hadn’t been for Quentin, I’d have lost her.
The thought sickened me, but I had to admit that gluing myself to Lou’s side wasn’t an option. She wanted to be free, not locked in a cage… or chained to a bodyguard.
So I was going to chase the chill of my fears away as well as I could by making sure she had every possible means to defend herself.
I spotted the right door with its faded blue paint and motioned to Lou. “Let me go first. I’ll introduce you.”
I rapped on the door to announce my arrival and then pushed into the room on the other side.
Dolores sat at a small table, looking for all the world as if she was engaged in an innocent game of solitaire with no other business on her mind. The amber glow of the dim fixture shone off the thick lenses of her glasses. She glanced up at me and grinned, bringing the smile lines on her worn face into sharper relief.
As I gestured for Lou to follow me in, Dolores swiped a few stray strands of stringy white hair under her vibrant pink shawl and reached for a case hidden away in one of the drawers on a nearby dresser.
Her voice was as crisp and crackly as autumn leaves. “Good to see you, Rafael. And this must be your ‘friend.’”
The slight lilt she gave that last word indicated she didn’t buy that Lou and I were only friends for an instant.
Lou took the wrinkled hand the old woman offered her and shook it, the picture of politeness if a little awkward. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lou. I, er, I’m here to buy a gun.”
“Just the same as everyone else who comes to visit me,” Dolores replied in a dryly amused tone. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Rafael, if I were you, I’d hurry and put a ring on this one’s finger!”
Heat rushed to Lou’s cheeks. “I —”
Dolores laughed. “I’m just joking, darling. But not about how pretty you are. Goodness, you’ve got the face of an angel. And those legs! Appreciate them while you have them.One day you’ll get to be just as old as me.”
My stomach sunk at Dolores’s words. I’d almost lost Lou so many times—there had been so many close calls. At this rate, we both would be lucky if we made it to forty.
She would if I had anything to say about it. As soon as we could get her out of her mother’s control for good, she could live a normal life. Well, as normal as any other figure skating pro.
Dolores wasted no time popping open her case and laying a selection of guns out on the table. “I gather you want something discreet. Most of the young ladies prefer it that way. All of these will pack a punch without making you look like you’re packing.” She shot Lou a wink.
Lou picked up the compact pistols one by one, testing their weight and feel in her hand. A few of them she liked enough to pass over to me so I could confirm I approved with my greater experience when it came to firearms. But the decision would ultimately be up to her.
What mattered most was that she chose a weapon she’d feel comfortable enough with to use it when she needed to.
“These are all good,” I told her after she handed a fourth option over. “Dolores is picky about what she carries. Which one feels best to you?”
Lou went through them again and settled on a sleek little Glock. “I like this one. Solid but small. I could fit it in the pocket of some of my jackets, even—definitely in even my smaller purses without being noticeable.”
I nodded. “The closer you can keep it, the better.”
I forked over the cash without thinking about the price. It was worth any amount of money to see Lou safe.
Lou slid the gun into the kangaroo pocket of her pullover hoodie, and her mouth twisted into a bittersweet smile. “I could even have it on me when I’m skating.”
