Page 34

Apparently, that grand declaration of being a killer was supposed to scare him off or something. “Why do you think I called you when I got into trouble?” Chas asked reasonably. “I needed someone who could handle serious danger and get me and Poppy out of there safely.”
“So you only wanted me for my violent skills,” Gunner responded. He stated it as a fact, not a question.
“In part.”
That made Gunner look over at him. “What’s the other part?”
“I wanted to see you again. We left a whole lot unresolved between us the last time we saw each other.”
That did it. Gunner clammed up tighter than an oyster hiding a pearl, refusing to even look at Chas across the front seat.
Dammit, had he pushed too hard again? Was Gunner still having a hard time with his sexual identity? He was tempted to force the man to admit he was in love, but maybe this wasn’t the moment. Chas stayed silent, unwilling to chance pushing Gunner into his cave of denial for another ten years.
It took a long time, but Gunner’s fists eventually relaxed around the steering wheel.
“Where are we going?” Chas asked casually.
“We’re heading toward Pennsylvania. It’s as good a place as any to park while we figure out what the hell’s going on with Poppy.”
“Don’t swear,” he murmured automatically.
Gunner glanced in the rearview mirror, presumably to check on Poppy, and murmured, “Fuck off.”
Chas grinned at him, and praise the Lord, Gunner grinned back.
Chapter Eight
GUNNER LOOKEDaround the small cabin with approval. The log walls would hold up well in a firefight. Its placement, high on the side of a mountain, gave him great sight lines to the road approaching it. The lock on the front door was sturdy. It was probably meant for keeping out bears, but it would work on humans too. And best of all, it had two bedrooms, which meant Poppy would have her own room and he and Chas would have their own space.
To do what, he wasn’t sure, but he thought he might just want to find out. Last night’s encounter before the hostiles had shown up had been… enlightening.
He still had it as bad for Chas as he ever had, apparently.
“What’s wrong?” Chas asked from the little kitchenette in the corner.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You were frowning as if you were bothered by something about this place.”
“Oh. No. It’s fine.”
“You wanna go take a nap? You drove most of the night. I’ll watch Poppy for a while.”
“I’m okay.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me to sleep whenever I could because I wouldn’t know when I’d get to sleep again?”
Gunner rolled his eyes. The guy had a point. “Fine. I’ll go take a nap.”
He stretched out on the big bed and sighed at the comfort. He’d slept on the cold, hard ground more often than in a bed over the past decade, and he’d learned to appreciate having a soft mattress beneath him, with no stones poking him.
He woke with a lurch sometime later to the sound of a car engine coming to a stop outside. He rolled out of bed and pulled the pistol out from under his pillow, all in one fast move. He raced on silent feet to the living room. There was no sign of Chas. He had to be in the other bedroom with Poppy. Good. Safely out of the line of fire.
The knob on the front door moved, and he crouched in the bedroom doorway, using the log wall for cover as he took aim. He exhaled slowly as the door cracked open and his finger began a smooth pull through on the trigger. He would have a millisecond to see the tango’s face and memorize it before he obliterated it with a couple of rounds of hot lead.
The intruder slipped inside as the firing pin began to engage.
Shit.