Six(58)

My gaze was still locked on his eyes that had widened significantly. “I think he has a problem with it. I’d run before he pulls the trigger. I don’t want blood on my shirt.”

He nodded and scurried away, tripping on the curb as he hauled ass.

I chuckled as I turned to Six, who was stowing his gun. There was no amusement. All serious and businesslike and maybe even a little pissed.

“Don’t talk to anyone.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on! You think I initiated contact?”

“You were flirting.”

“No, I thought it was funny,” I said with a shake of my head. “Maybe a bit flattering as well. You may be giving me the goods, but you’re lacking in many other areas.”

He slammed one hand onto the car, blocking my path, the other hand grabbing on to my hair and yanking back.

“This isn’t fun and games. I’m using you before I kill you.” His teeth pressed against my neck, biting hard before pulling away and letting go of me.

“Such a charmer.”

The side glare he gave me only made me want to bait him more, because the jealousy he’d begun to display was one of the last reactions I expected from him.

The trunk was filled with our two suitcases, his book bag holding the super-secret laptop, and the bag full of weapons.

“You really would love it if the world went into some nuclear war or something equally as population devastating so there wouldn’t be as much cattle around, wouldn’t you?” I asked as I took the book bag from him.

He stared into my eyes, unblinking. “Yes.”

Nothing but truth behind his fake baby blues.

Speaking of, I couldn’t wait to get the stupid contacts out of my eyes. They’d bothered me for the last twelve hours.

The room was on the second floor, which meant hauling all of the shit we’d acquired up.

“Why do you always stay in such shitholes?” I asked as we entered a ‘70s version of the previous shitholes, only with early ‘90s updates.

“Because a lot of the people here don’t snitch on illegal activities.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “It’s not like you’re buying drugs or are wanted.”

“No, but right now, you’re wanted and I don’t want my face on cameras.”

Point.

I steered my suitcase closer and turned the dials of the lock. When I set it up, I used the last four digits of my phone number. A phone that was blown up almost two months prior.

Strange how it was always attached to my hand for games, music, Facebook, but I’d hardly missed it. There was no desire to check anything. Only the desire to live, and I was doing it the only way I could.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to put my toiletries bag in the front, but it was a tight squeeze getting it out. With it in hand, I walked to the counter that contained a sink and mirror just outside the rest of the bathroom.

I opened the case and reached into one eye, pinching the edges of the brown lens, letting hints of the bright blue hidden beneath peek through. First one, then the other before I deposited both into the case and closed it up. I blinked in rapid succession as I located the eye drops.

The cool drops burned before soothing my dry, tired eyes.

“That’s better.”

Six stepped up behind me, pushing and pinning me against the counter’s edge. We locked eyes in the mirror—his fake blue with my real.

“I missed your eyes.”

“You did?”

He nodded and leaned forward, running his lips along the length of my neck. “They’re so beautiful.”

I froze, gaze locked on him.

Beautiful?

I turned in his arms and looked up at him. “You know you don’t have to throw fake compliments my way to get into my pants.”

He shook his head, lips twitching up. “All too real.” He leaned down, his lips millimeters from mine. “I do know beauty.”

His lips pressed against mine and I kissed back, my hand running up his chest.

“Too bad even beautiful things eventually die.”

Insert splash of cold reality.

I pursed my lips and glared at him. “Thanks for the reminder.” I slapped his chest. “You are such a shit sometimes.”

He pulled back and smirked. “I’m hungry.”

I let out a chuckle. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

The beginning talks of food were interrupted by a knock at the door, making both of us freeze. Six glanced at me, then picked up his gun from the table and stuffed it in his waistband as he moved quietly toward the door. He looked through the peephole and remained silent.

“Hey, puta, open up. We know you’re there.”

Six sighed, probably in annoyance, and tilted his head to the side, releasing a few loud cracks. With a flip of the deadbolt, he pulled the door open.

From my vantage point there were about five guys, all dressed like the idiot from earlier. They were all shorter than Six, but then again, he was just over six foot.

“You the pendejo that pointed a gun at my cousin?”

Six’s fingers flexed, wrapping around the grip of his gun. “If he was the idiot trying to pick up my wife, then yes.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” the guy asked, his voice almost a yell.

The situation did not look good, and I had a feeling it would be wise to pack my bag up again. Luckily, I hadn’t taken much out.