Page 13 of Property of Tacoma

“I don’t know, Prez. She said she was here for you!” he says, panicked and out of breath as he fumbles to pull his gun.

For me?

Badass Barbie whips out another gun and aims it at City’s head.

Does that Ruger have fucking sparkles on it? Jesus Christ, it does.

“Shoot this bitch!”

“Shut the fuck up, Bane!” Jesus! He’s going to get himself fucking killed.

I lift my hands to show the woman I’m not a threat. At least I don’t want to be. “Darlin’,” I start, trying to keep my voice calm, and praying that my brother keeps his fucking mouth shut. He has a way of pissing people off, and I don’t want to have to shoot my dream girl for blowing his head off. “Put down the gun.”

“Tell your prospect to lower his or I’m going to put a bullet through his head,” she says, sounding cool as a cucumber.

Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.

“Lady, I don’t know who you are, but that’s not gonna happen. Especially seeing as yours is pointed at my VP’s head.” I point at my brother under her sexy as fuck boot.

Her eyes flick to the pink and white zebra-print Sig Sauer in her hand, and her lips turn down.

Yeah, Angel. That one.

She recovers quickly, though, and turns her narrowed emerald green eyes on me. “He came at me first,” she says matter-of-factly, as if that’s all the justification she needs.

My lips turn up as Bane’s face goes fire engine red.

Shit.

I know that look. My little brother is about to make this situation a whole lot worse.

In a reckless move, he flips over and reaches for her gun. Unfortunately for him, before he can grab it, she slams her three-inch heeled boot against his throat.

“Try it again,” she says calmly, “and I’ll crush your windpipe.”

Bane’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Last fucking warning.” I raise my Glock and flick off the safety.

I can see the moment she realizes we’re in a standoff that neither of us is backing down from. Slowly, she takes her foot off my brother’s neck and lowers both of her girly as fuck guns.

“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” she says, holstering one gun at her thigh and the other at her back.

Reaching down, she offers a hand to my brother, but he smacks it away with a snarl before getting to his feet. He towers over her despite her heels and moves to grab for her again.

“Damnit, Bane!” I step between them, pressing a hand against my brother’s chest. “Let it fucking go,” I warn.

“She pulled a gun on me!” he snaps, his eyes shooting daggers over my shoulder at her.

That ain’t all she did, but I don’t list off the ways she just kicked his ass. Instead, I narrow my eyes with a warning look. “I’m telling you as your fucking president. Let. It. The. Fuck. Go.”

Bane’s jaw clenches so hard I can hear his teeth grinding. He shoves me back a step and storms off toward the clubhouse, kicking a nearby trash can on his way.

City shifts beside me uncomfortably. “Get back to the gate. Now.”

Breathing deeply, I look down at the woman in front of me, taking my time to appreciate the view. Curves in all the right places, full lips, and those eyes—Christ, they’re like looking into an emerald fire.

“It pains me to say it, Angel, but you gotta get back in that thing and get the fuck gone.” I jut my chin towards her expensive house on wheels.