Buck calls out, “Lou. Lou, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that there. Where are you?”
I bite my lip. Maybe he’ll leave. Please, God. Let him go. I’m pissed, but I don’t want him hurt.
He rounds the corner into the kitchen. I try to shake my head, because he probably can’t see her from where he is. But he just keeps on coming.
Idiot man.
“Lou. We need to talk about that proposal.”
Arianne screeches. “You proposed?”
Buck’s eyes widen and his brows rise almost to his hairline. “Arianne. What are you—”
Arianne pushes Aunt Delores further into the kitchen. “I’m here to take control of our destiny. Since you don’t seem to understand how this is supposed to go, I’m going to fix it.”
Buck props his hands at his waist. “Aw, this is bullshit, Arianne. Put that gun away before you do something you’ll regret.”
“No.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Loula Mae and I are going to talk a little about stealing people’s fiancés.”
I nod. “Sure. C’mon. We can go. Let’s get outta here. I don’t much want to be in the same room with that asshole, anyway.”
Arianne shoots me side eyes for a second. “Asshole? But he just said he proposed.”
Proposal my ass. “Yeah, he did. But I left him on his knee holding out that stupid ring box. He only did it for the cameras and fucking ratings. It’s a bunch of crap is what it is. If he and that Perky Trudi think I’ll fall for that shit, they’re both out of their damned minds.”
Buck looks out the window, his jaw ticking.
Arianne’s gaze darts from him to me and back. Her eyes soften as she stares at him. “Aw, Buck. Don’t listen to her. You aren’t out of your mind, Baby. She’s nothing. You don’t want her anyway. I’ll make you happy. I love you.”
She can have him. Right now, I need to get Aunt Delores out of danger and this woman out of the house. I cast about for some sort of solution. If only Aunt Delores weren’t at the wrong end of that pistol.
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. Fuck it. I’ll just brazen this shit out. I turn on the tap and refill my glass.
“Are we going? If not, I think I’ll have a bath. Aunt Delores, you need to be sure to take your medication before you hit the sack.” There, maybe Arianne will feel a bit of sympathy for a sick, old woman.
Aunt Delores’s finger twitches at her side as she points to the counter. “Yes, ma’am, Lou. You’re in charge. If you can just get my pills for me; they’re in the breadbox.”
It’s almost like my mind works backward. Stringing words to the memories they go with. Pills. You’re in charge.
Fuck yeah, I’m in charge.
Arianne’s making cow eyes at Buck, so I edge in front of the breadbox and casually flip up the lid. “Aunt Delores, you need to tie your shoelace before you trip and break something.”
As Aunt Delores bends, I yank the forty-five from its hiding spot. In milliseconds, I’ve got the safety off and my finger on the trigger.
I douse Arianne with the contents of my glass. She jumps. Her arms fling out to her sides enough to get the barrel of that nine pointing away from Aunt Delores.
I flinch as sound explodes in the room.
Aunt Delores falls to her knees, grabbing the nine Arianne dropped. Arianne rushes at me, her face wild with rage. Her hand comes at my face, claws out.
The woman has lost her fucking mind.
I let her get close. She grabs a handful of my hair.
I press the still-hot barrel of the forty-five against her side. “You’d best back off, bitch. I will not wing your ass this time. I was being nice by not taking your fucking head off with the first bullet.”
Arianne goes still, her blue eyes six inches from mine, hard and hate filled. “You will pay. Just wait. I’ll make you pay.”
I grin. “Not before you do.”
With one quick motion, I sling my head forward, my forehead connecting with her nose. The shock of pain that flares through my brain for a split second is made completely worth it when Arianne weaves backward a couple of steps before falling into a heap on the kitchen floor.
Buck rushes to Aunt Delores, taking the nine from her shaking hands and helping her to her feet.
I toss a kitchen towel into Arianne’s lap. “You may want to put some pressure on that.”
She shakes her head as though trying to clear it. Then she looks at the wound on her upper arm. Her eyes roll back as she slumps over, unconscious.
The kitchen door busts in with a bang. Thugs One, Three, and Four trip over each other as they spill inside.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and dial.