her head down and
hoped like hell she understood what he meant. She dropped her head
to her arms, but didn’t hide her face.
Holy hell. He could go back, but that would
waste valuable time. He resumed his crawl, listening for any
movement close by. Soon, he reached a picnic table and pulled
himself to a crouching position behind it. One glance back at Evie
to make sure she was okay.
There was a good hundred feet between them
now but he had no trouble finding her. Her face shone, but she was
safe.
Then a movement to her left caught his eye.
He stared, willing the shape to take form. When it did, his heart
slammed into his chest. He’d never get there in time.
* * *
“You think Girard is so cool now?”
Evie watched the hand holding the knife. It
wasn’t pointed at her, but still. The gun, at least, was tucked
away in his belt.
“Jimmy, this isn’t funny. You need to stop it
right now.”
“I ain’t hurt nobody. I just want to talk to
you.”
“You were firing a gun,” she pointed out. “In
the dark. How do you know you didn’t hurt anyone?”
It was ninety damn degrees on a steamy
Louisiana summer night and her teeth were chattering like she was
standing in downtown Chicago, sans clothing, in the middle of
January. It infuriated her to be so helpless, but she couldn’t stop
the chattering no matter how hard she tried.
She didn’t really think Jimmy wanted to hurt
anyone. But he was just stupid enough and mean enough to do it
anyway. He’d been one of the bullies back in high school, one of
the guys who picked on those littler or stranger than he was.
Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark
now, and she could see Jimmy blink as he considered her question.
“I fired in the air,” he said after a minute. “Not at anyone.”
Evie gritted her teeth. “Bullets come down
again.” It happened all the time in those countries where people
fired weapons in celebration. They aimed automatic rifles high in
the air, and the bullets came down in the crowd. Sometimes, people
got hurt.
“I fired toward the lake.” He said it as if
he were proud of that fact.
“Why did you do it at all?”
His jaw thrust out. “Did you know that
Girard’s daddy bought him into the Rangers?” Jimmy spit on the
ground. “I coulda been a soldier, but my knee blew out. Can’t pass
the physical so they won’t let me in.”
Evie wanted to choke him at that moment. This
was about some pissing contest with Matt? “I’m sorry to hear it.
I’m sure you’d have made a fine soldier.”
“Damn straight.” He waved the knife. “I got
the jump on him, didn’t I?”
Anger was a slow boil in her belly. “You sure
did. Now can I please go?”
“No.” His voice was hard and it sent another
shiver down her spine.
“You don’t want to hurt anyone, Jimmy. You
don’t want to get in trouble with the law.”
He snorted. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Then put the knife down.”
He lifted the hunting knife in his hand. It
was serrated and ugly, the kind of thing a guy used to stab deer or
something. Hunting, thank heavens, was something she’d never had a
taste for.
Sure, she deboned chickens and cleaned fish
and it didn’t make her queasy—not a good thing for a chef to be,
after all—but hunting and cleaning big game was not her kind of
thing.
He slid the knife into the sheath at his
side. He hadn’t been wearing that earlier, or she would have
noticed it for sure. That meant he’d left the party, went to his
truck, and got his weapons. And all for the purpose of… what?
Getting one over on Matt? Getting even with her?
“There. Satisfied?”
Evie shifted on her feet. She wasn’t used to
standing in heels and they were starting to hurt. It didn’t help
that the ground was soft nearer the lake and the spikes kept
sticking in the dirt.
“Better, yes.”
“You weren’t nice to me, Evie.” He spoke as
if he were lecturing her on manners. “I got you a drink and
everything, and you weren’t
hoped like hell she understood what he meant. She dropped her head
to her arms, but didn’t hide her face.
Holy hell. He could go back, but that would
waste valuable time. He resumed his crawl, listening for any
movement close by. Soon, he reached a picnic table and pulled
himself to a crouching position behind it. One glance back at Evie
to make sure she was okay.
There was a good hundred feet between them
now but he had no trouble finding her. Her face shone, but she was
safe.
Then a movement to her left caught his eye.
He stared, willing the shape to take form. When it did, his heart
slammed into his chest. He’d never get there in time.
* * *
“You think Girard is so cool now?”
Evie watched the hand holding the knife. It
wasn’t pointed at her, but still. The gun, at least, was tucked
away in his belt.
“Jimmy, this isn’t funny. You need to stop it
right now.”
“I ain’t hurt nobody. I just want to talk to
you.”
“You were firing a gun,” she pointed out. “In
the dark. How do you know you didn’t hurt anyone?”
It was ninety damn degrees on a steamy
Louisiana summer night and her teeth were chattering like she was
standing in downtown Chicago, sans clothing, in the middle of
January. It infuriated her to be so helpless, but she couldn’t stop
the chattering no matter how hard she tried.
She didn’t really think Jimmy wanted to hurt
anyone. But he was just stupid enough and mean enough to do it
anyway. He’d been one of the bullies back in high school, one of
the guys who picked on those littler or stranger than he was.
Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark
now, and she could see Jimmy blink as he considered her question.
“I fired in the air,” he said after a minute. “Not at anyone.”
Evie gritted her teeth. “Bullets come down
again.” It happened all the time in those countries where people
fired weapons in celebration. They aimed automatic rifles high in
the air, and the bullets came down in the crowd. Sometimes, people
got hurt.
“I fired toward the lake.” He said it as if
he were proud of that fact.
“Why did you do it at all?”
His jaw thrust out. “Did you know that
Girard’s daddy bought him into the Rangers?” Jimmy spit on the
ground. “I coulda been a soldier, but my knee blew out. Can’t pass
the physical so they won’t let me in.”
Evie wanted to choke him at that moment. This
was about some pissing contest with Matt? “I’m sorry to hear it.
I’m sure you’d have made a fine soldier.”
“Damn straight.” He waved the knife. “I got
the jump on him, didn’t I?”
Anger was a slow boil in her belly. “You sure
did. Now can I please go?”
“No.” His voice was hard and it sent another
shiver down her spine.
“You don’t want to hurt anyone, Jimmy. You
don’t want to get in trouble with the law.”
He snorted. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Then put the knife down.”
He lifted the hunting knife in his hand. It
was serrated and ugly, the kind of thing a guy used to stab deer or
something. Hunting, thank heavens, was something she’d never had a
taste for.
Sure, she deboned chickens and cleaned fish
and it didn’t make her queasy—not a good thing for a chef to be,
after all—but hunting and cleaning big game was not her kind of
thing.
He slid the knife into the sheath at his
side. He hadn’t been wearing that earlier, or she would have
noticed it for sure. That meant he’d left the party, went to his
truck, and got his weapons. And all for the purpose of… what?
Getting one over on Matt? Getting even with her?
“There. Satisfied?”
Evie shifted on her feet. She wasn’t used to
standing in heels and they were starting to hurt. It didn’t help
that the ground was soft nearer the lake and the spikes kept
sticking in the dirt.
“Better, yes.”
“You weren’t nice to me, Evie.” He spoke as
if he were lecturing her on manners. “I got you a drink and
everything, and you weren’t
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