Page 56
Story: Stilettos and Outlaws
In his perfect old lady’s voice, he replied, “It’s Miss Maize to you.”
I rolled my eyes and headed for the cafeteria. As soon as we walked in, the kids went wild.
Grandpa parked his wheelchair by the door and kept watch.
Each of the guys spent time with the children, answering all their questions, showing them their weapons and taking selfies. The teenagers, older patients and doctors wanted pictures with Marilyn Monroe and Betty Boop.
I moved a kid’s hand off my ass. “No touching.”
“You’re so pretty and so tall,” he gushed.
I patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but if you touch me again, I’ll break your fingers.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Julie patted his other cheek. “Yeah, she would.”
Seven thugs with guns drawn stormed into the cafeteria and yelled, “Hands up!”
The kids gasped in surprise, raised their hands and started giggling.
Batman hurled his batarangs in quick succession, dropping two CIA thugs.
Crack! Crack!Crack!Zorro’s whip lashed out, disarming three more thugs.
Grandpa leaped out of his wheelchair and kicked the crap out of the last two.
The Mandalorian kicked their weapons away and drew his laser pistol. “The Force isn’t with you, and I suggest you don’t move a muscle.”
The kids hooted and hollered, while the older patients clapped loudly.
Whew. They thought the attack was part of the act.
A thug wearing funky blonde dreadlocks sneered, “That laser pistol isn’t real.”
“But my gun is sugar.” I jammed my Glock against the base of his skull.
He raised his hands, and the other thugs quickly followed suit.
Agent Grimes rushed into the room and stumbled to a stop. His astonished gaze fixed on our costumes. “You never stop surprising me.”
“Did you think we would let them take Dante?” I snarled.
“No, I didn’t.” Grimes gestured at Dad’s armor. “But I wasn’t expecting superheroes riding to the rescue.”
Six FBI agents swarmed into the cafeteria and took the prisoners into custody.
Sliding the Glock into my thigh holster, I called, “Who wants cake and ice cream?”
“Me! Me! Me!” the children shouted.
Three hospital workers wheeled a big pink cake over to the table. Each kid got a slice of cake and a scoop of ice cream. We took more selfies with the excited kids.
Dante slid an arm around my waist. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Not today.” I smiled suggestively. “Why don’t we find a janitor’s closet and you can show me.”
Dad grabbed my arm and dragged me away from Dante. “No sex until Roberts is dead.”
I rolled my eyes and headed for the cafeteria. As soon as we walked in, the kids went wild.
Grandpa parked his wheelchair by the door and kept watch.
Each of the guys spent time with the children, answering all their questions, showing them their weapons and taking selfies. The teenagers, older patients and doctors wanted pictures with Marilyn Monroe and Betty Boop.
I moved a kid’s hand off my ass. “No touching.”
“You’re so pretty and so tall,” he gushed.
I patted his cheek. “You’re sweet, but if you touch me again, I’ll break your fingers.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Julie patted his other cheek. “Yeah, she would.”
Seven thugs with guns drawn stormed into the cafeteria and yelled, “Hands up!”
The kids gasped in surprise, raised their hands and started giggling.
Batman hurled his batarangs in quick succession, dropping two CIA thugs.
Crack! Crack!Crack!Zorro’s whip lashed out, disarming three more thugs.
Grandpa leaped out of his wheelchair and kicked the crap out of the last two.
The Mandalorian kicked their weapons away and drew his laser pistol. “The Force isn’t with you, and I suggest you don’t move a muscle.”
The kids hooted and hollered, while the older patients clapped loudly.
Whew. They thought the attack was part of the act.
A thug wearing funky blonde dreadlocks sneered, “That laser pistol isn’t real.”
“But my gun is sugar.” I jammed my Glock against the base of his skull.
He raised his hands, and the other thugs quickly followed suit.
Agent Grimes rushed into the room and stumbled to a stop. His astonished gaze fixed on our costumes. “You never stop surprising me.”
“Did you think we would let them take Dante?” I snarled.
“No, I didn’t.” Grimes gestured at Dad’s armor. “But I wasn’t expecting superheroes riding to the rescue.”
Six FBI agents swarmed into the cafeteria and took the prisoners into custody.
Sliding the Glock into my thigh holster, I called, “Who wants cake and ice cream?”
“Me! Me! Me!” the children shouted.
Three hospital workers wheeled a big pink cake over to the table. Each kid got a slice of cake and a scoop of ice cream. We took more selfies with the excited kids.
Dante slid an arm around my waist. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Not today.” I smiled suggestively. “Why don’t we find a janitor’s closet and you can show me.”
Dad grabbed my arm and dragged me away from Dante. “No sex until Roberts is dead.”
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