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Well, fine. Two could play at this game. If he didn’t care, neither would I. By the time I got to the next town, I was positively fuming. And worse, he didn’t even fill up the fucking tank of gas! What kind of asshole boyfriend was he? I pulled into the gas station and jerked the nozzle out of the pump, then shoved it into my tank. The man across from me stared at me warily, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in the mood for any more shit from men today. What was supposed to be an adventure for me was quickly turning into a big pile of dog crap.
When the gas was done pumping, I walked inside to pay, only to have to wait for the kid behind the register. He was reading a magazine, which must have been very important since he couldn’t tear his eyes away. With my throwing knives from Fox sitting on my hip, I had to seriously restrain myself from not pulling them out and launching one at his head.
“Excuse me, I need to pay for my gas.”
“Uh-huh,” he muttered, still not looking up from his magazine.
Sighing heavily, I tapped my nails on the counter, waiting impatiently for him to finish. The door jingled as someone else walked in and stepped up right behind me. I was just about to turn around and tell him to give me some fucking space when I heard the rack of a gun.
I huffed out a laugh, thinking that if Cash were here, he’d already be nagging at me for not being aware of my surroundings. And then he would chastise me for finding trouble not even ten minutes down the road from him.
“Empty the register,” the man said, his arm quickly coming up around my throat.
I did my best not to point out the cliche handling of his hostage. It was so typical, just like every other TV show or movie that he was probably getting his tips from. If I wasn’t so irritated with Cash, I might actually find it in me to be slightly scared. But Fox had trained me, and that was starting to kick in right about now.
“Did you hear me? I said empty the register!”
The kid grunted and flipped the page. My annoyance with this punk was enough to spur me into motion. I snatched one of my throwing knives from my side and slid it into position in my hand. Since this holdup was moving at a snail’s pace, I took action, slamming the knife back into the man’s thigh. His arm quickly released me and I spun away from him, flipping the knife in my hand and then quickly launching it at him. It was supposed to hit his hand, but instead lodged in his throat. I winced as the man coughed slightly and then dropped to the ground.
“Holy shit! Did you see that?” I asked, spinning to face the kid. He was still reading his magazine, completely oblivious to what had just happened. Then the door swung open and Fox came storming through, quickly assessing the situation.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“What am I doing? What areyoudoing? You’re supposed to be finding yourself or some shit.”
“Well, I had to get gas, and then this guy decided to hold me hostage!”
He bent over and examined the guy’s neck and all the blood pouring out from it. He nodded. “Nice throw.”
“I was aiming for his hand.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Real question, what song were you thinking about when you tossed it?”
I shook my head slightly. “I wasn’t.”
“Hmm, we’ll have to work on that.” He pulled out his phone and dialed someone. “Rae, yeah, I’m gonna need you to wipe the cameras at the local gas station, just to be on the safe side…yeah, well…she sort of killed someone…I don’t know. I was outside, like I was told to be.”
“Told to be?” I asked, but he ignored me.
“Yeah, well, then he can do the job himself.”
He hung up and I shook my head at him. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“I was following you.”
“I gathered that, but why?”
He snorted. “Well, clearly, you can’t be trusted on your own.”
“I what?”
“Look, I don’t want to point this out. You did a very nice job of taking care of this man. Ten points. But you’re not quite a cat yet.”
“A cat?”
“Yeah, you know, you’re still in kitten territory. You got lucky today.”
“I hardly think—”