Colorado 03 Lady Luck Read Online Free PDF Page B

bands on the wood above the mini-bar
cabinet attached to the luggage shelf. The first roll had a twenty
on the outside of it. The second, another twenty. The third, a
fifty.
    At the fifty, my breath started sticking in
my throat.
    The fourth, more twenties.
    Then he came out with a gun clip and it
clattered on the wood by the bills as he dropped it there.
    My breathing stopped.
    Another gun clip. Another roll of fifties. A
box of ammo. Another roll of twenties.
    Then a gun.
    I sucked in air.
    “Um, darling?” I called on the exhale. “I’m
thinking we need a family meeting.”
    Just his head turned, his body stayed bent
over the bag and his light brown, almond-shaped, curly-lashed eyes
hit mine. As usual, he did not speak.
    I tipped my head to the unit. “What’s with
the bank and the firepower?”
    His eyes stayed on me. Then he straightened
and turned to me.
    I braced in order not to flee though I
didn’t know why I didn’t attempt escape, probably because he’d
proved his hands were fast and I didn’t want to find out if his
legs were just as fast.
    He still didn’t speak.
    I carried on. “I mean, I’m no parole officer
but it’s my understanding ex-cons aren’t allowed to be armed.”
    He finally spoke. “You don’t have a
record.”
    I felt my head jerk at the same time I was
certain my eyes bugged out.
    Then I breathed, “What?”
    “Hit trouble, the .38 is yours.”
    At this juncture, I felt it was time to
share.
    I took two steps toward him and stopped.
    “As I told you during our last and only
conversation, Shift knows my boundaries. Any trouble we could,” I
lifted up my hands and his beautiful eyes moved to them as I did
air quotation marks and said, “‘hit’,” then I dropped my hands and
his eyes came back to mine as I continued, “that would require a
.38 and a half a dozen wads of cash is not within my acceptable
boundaries.”
    He stared at me.
    Then he walked the four steps to me (that,
for my legs, would probably be around seven) and then I found my
purse being slid off my shoulder. I watched with no small amount of
concern as he dug in it and was somewhat relieved when he pulled
out my phone. He turned, tossed my bag across the room to the bed
then turned back to me, flipped the phone open, used his thumb then
put it to his ear.
    I waited as it rang. So did he. Then he
flipped it closed, opened it again then hit more buttons and put it
to his ear.
    I waited. So did he. Then he flipped it
closed, opened it and repeat.
    I waited. So did he.
    Finally, he spoke. “It ain’t Lexie, scum,
it’s Walker. What the fuck?”
    I pressed my lips together because his face
might still be blank but his voice was low and rumbling. Or lower
and more rumbling than normal. I didn’t know him very well but I
felt this indicated extreme unhappiness.
    “Yeah, with her, yeah,” he growled into the
phone confusingly (at least to me), paused then stated in a further
growl, “Yeah, the bag ain’t light.” Another pause then, “She don’t
know jack.” Another pause then, “Jesus Christ, you’re
worthless.”
    Then he flipped the phone shut and tossed it
on the unit where it clattered. Then he looked at me.
    “Family meeting,” he said.
    I was suddenly not feeling like having a
family meeting.
    I had no choice.
    “He told you dick, didn’t he?” he asked.
    I nodded and wished he’d take a step back
but still, I answered, “I’m sensing I didn’t get a full
briefing.”
    “What’d that piece of shit tell you?”
    “That I was to pick you up and take you
where you wanted to go.”
    “That’s it?”
    I thought about it. Then I amended, “Well,
actually, his words were that I was to pick you up at noon, call
him when you were out and then take further directions from
you.”
    And I had assumed by directions he meant
directions to wherever Ty Walker called home or wanted to make his
home. But I was thinking I assumed wrong.
    “That’s it?” he repeated.
    Yep, I was