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“Ready?” she asked.
Judge shook his head. “One more thing before we go.”
She smiled and stepped close. “A kiss?”
His lips curled upward. “Okay, maybe two more things.”
PJ cupped the back of his neck, leaned up on her toes and kissed him long and hard, her tongue pushing past his teeth to caress his. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight one last time but couldn’t with his wrists tied behind his back.
When at last she stepped back, he sighed. “I’ll kiss you properly when this is all said and done.”
She cocked a single eyebrow. “The kiss wasn’t a proper kiss?”
“Not if I can’t hold you in my arms at the same time.”
“Hmm,” she touched a finger to her chin. “I’ll have to try a little harder next time.”
“I need you to do one more thing,” he said.
Her brow wrinkled. “What’s that?”
“Hit me,” he said. “Hard enough to make me bleed or leave a goose egg that shows. Pistol whip me if it’s easier.”
She frowned. “I don’t know if I can hurt you.”
“You hurt yourself to make our fight look legit. If you can’t do it, untie me, and I’ll do it myself.”
“We’re getting short on time.”
“I know. So, do it,” he urged. “I promise not to cry.”
She smiled briefly, the smile fading as she set her rifle aside. With a grimace, she pulled her pistol from her pocket, held it by the barrel and looked at his face, frowning. “I’ll aim for the side of your jaw.”
He turned his face to give her an easy target.
Still, she hesitated.
“Come on, recruit,” he said in his best imitation of a drill sergeant. “Get tough. We don’t tolerate weakness in this man’s army.”
“This army of one isn’t a man,” she countered, her frown deepening.
“Are you a soldier or a pussy?” he said with a sneer. “Put some muscle behind it. Or are you too weak to do it? I thought you were a badass. Don’t prove me wrong. Just do it.”
When she swung the butt of the handgun at his face, he turned at the last minute.
The hard plastic handle slammed into his cheekbone, cutting into his skin.
Pain knifed through him, and warm liquid slid down his face.
“You moved,” PJ exclaimed as she rushed forward.
He stepped back and turned to block her with his shoulder. “I did it on purpose. A little blood makes for a better show.”
“But your face,” she whispered.
“Will heal.” The pain abated to a dull ache. “Come on. We have to get there before they do.”
She nodded, tucked the handgun into her belt and grabbed her rifle from where she’d propped it against a tree.
