Page 16 of Puck
What? You’d never heard of danger hackles? That creepy, crawly, ants-on-the-back-of-your-neck sensation you got when you knew something wasn’t right, you just weren’t sure exactly what? I called them the danger hackles.
And mine were crawling like I had a whole anthill milling around up there.
I glanced at Layla, who already had the Makarov out, held low against her thigh. “Saw them, did you?” I asked.
She nodded. “I saw ’em. I’ll stay here in the van, watch the girls. You go on the offensive.”
I grinned at her. “You’re a woman after my own heart, Layla.”
She playfully nudged my shoulder. “Don’t waste time flirting with me, stupid—the bad guys aren’t going to kick their own asses.”
I checked the mag in the pistol—full—and then the spare in my pocket, also full. I pulled the slide, rolled my cigar to the other side of my mouth and puffed a few pulls.
“Keep ’em low, keep ’em quiet,” I said.
Colbie eyed me. “What can I do to help?”
“Gimme a good luck kiss?” I suggested.
She rolled her eyes. “How about no.”
“Then for now just hang tight and be pretty.”
The look she gave me then was scathing and withering, but I caught a hint of a smile trying to sneak out from behind the mask. Her voice betrayed nothing but ire, however. “I’m more than just a pretty face and a tight ass, Puck. I can handle myself.”
“Listen, princess. I get that, I really do. Problem at the moment, however, is that I don’t know what we’re facing, and we’ve only got two guns. I know from experience that Layla can handle a gun, which is why I’m giving her the other gun and leaving her in charge here. I don’t know your skills, and that’s not a criticism, it’s just a fact. So try not to take it personal, okay? Right now, my job is to keep you safe, and I’m not doing that if I take you unarmed into a situation with unknown variables.” I met her gaze and hoped she saw I meant it. “I may be an incorrigible horndog and manwhore, but I’m not a sexist.”
She just rolled her eyes again and turned away. “Whatever, Puck. Go do your killer commando bullshit.”
I turned and trotted away, but not before I heard Colbie muttering to Layla. “Is he seriously like thatallthe time?”
Layla’s answer warmed me from head to toe.
“Colbie, honey, lemme give you a piece of advice when it comes to dealing with Puck: don’t ever underestimate him. He puts up this bad boy, trash-talking, brash and bold, take no shit and give no shit façade, but there’s more to him underneath all that.” She snickered. “You just gotta put up with a lot of flirting and pickup lines to get to it.”
It’s always nice to know friends got your back.
4: Story Swap
Iwas wellaware I was giving Puck mixed signals. The reason for those mixed signals was that I was feeling pretty damned mixed about the guy. On one hand, I admired his toughness and tenacity—the street kid in me appreciated that in him. And on the other hand, he was everything I hated in men—charming, arrogant, and self-assured. Don’t get me wrong, timid men were boring, but men like Puck? They didn’t stick around long, and that was something I’d had enough of in my life. More than enough. Too much. He was attractive, and he knew it. He affected me, and he knew it. And I hated both of those facts. So the back and forth. I wanted him, I didn’t want to want him.
Sitting in the opening of the van’s rear doors beside Layla and Kyrie, I watched as he trotted away, cigar clamped between his teeth, and I wondered what I was going to do about him.
“You should give him a chance,” Layla said.
I shot her a surprised look. “Did I say that out loud?”
She blinked at me. “Say what out loud?”
I felt myself blush. “Nothing.”
“You were thinking about him, weren’t you? Trying to figure him out?”
I shrugged. “More . . . trying to figure out what I am supposed to do.”
Layla’s wink and grin were . . . salacious. “Do about him, with him, or to him?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to hold back a smile.