Page 43 of Rescued By the Operative

“Well, shit. Let me guess. You’re the number five sister-wife.”

“How did you know that?”

“Wild guess.”

It’s not normal for a fifth wife to have a ring. The men are too tight with their money. I wonder about this.

After a pause, Jasmyn asks, “You’re not going to tell them you saw me, are you?”

I shake my head. “If you’re here to escape, you picked the wrong safe house. God, what is with these guys and the damsels in distress?”

“I’m not a damsel in distress!”

“OK, OK. Calm down.”

“Just please pretend you never saw me,” Jasmyn pleads.

“Trust me. If I know anything about those kooks, that guy is so busy feeding 47 kids that he’s not even going to notice you’re gone.”

“Just promise me.”

This girl is a lot.

“I pinky promise. Are we done here? I have to go be with sane people.”

“Gladly.”

I load my pistol, and the girl’s got more questions.

“What are you doing with that?” Jasmyn asks.

“What? You never went on a date to the gun range?”

“I…”

And I’m out.

As I breeze through the kitchen, I realize that Joaquin has been in there, listening to the entire conversation.

“Eunuch? Really?” he grumbles as he stalks behind me toward the back door.

“I was doing you a favor, fuck boy.” I don’t pause on my way out.

When a black Mercedes pulls up instead of Jake’s truck, I pause at first.

The back window rolls down, and sure enough, it’s Jake.

“Are you coming, Blondie?”

I slide in as he holds the door open for me.

“What’s all this about?”

“I want to show you a nice night in Bozeman, and I don’t have anything but a shitty farm truck.”

Oh god.

I don’t need this guy to start throwing money around for me. I don’t know his situation.