Page 125 of Rest In Pink

I handed them to her. “Good,” I said, holding her close, even though my chest still throbbed from that damn bullet. She was soft and warm in my arms and she was alive and holding me and that was worth a little pain.

Life without Liz wouldn’t be much of a life.

“Fuck both of you,” Mickey managed to say through gritted teeth.

We ignored him in unison.

“You are not allowed to ever do anything else like this again,” I told her.

“I won’t,” she said, and put her head on my shoulder.

I was good with that, too.

Chapter Sixty-Three

It felt so good to have his arms around me, even with his chest covered with what felt like armor. I looked up at him. “So how much trouble am I in?”

“You were in trouble.” Vince looked down at Mickey. “But you took care of that.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey said. It seemed his vocabulary was limited after being shot.

“I could have sworn he shot you.”

“It’s okay.” He lightly tapped on the hard shell covering his chest. “Vest took most of it. I’ll have a bad bruise and it hurts to breathe a little. It will really hurt to laugh, so no jokes.”

I tried to move back, but he held on, keeping me close. “Breathing is important,” I said. “Jokes are optional.” I swallowed hard, trying not to cry, patting the scorched cloth I’d found around the bullet hole that could have killed him. I could have lost him forever. I was never going to lose him. I . . .

I felt my eyes sting and blinked the tears away. I was a badass. Badasses do not cry.

I should get that on a t-shirt.

He pulled me closer, and I heard him grunt in pain as he pressed me to that damn bullet hole. “It’s okay, Liz. It’s over. Everybody’s safe.”

“Why didn’t you shoot?” I asked him.

“It’s likely my bullets would have gone through him and hit you.”

We heard the rescue squad pull up outside, and I yelled so they could find us. Mac came hustling in with another EMT and a stretcher.

“You guys all right?” he asked us.

“Yeah,” Vince said.

Mac looked down. “Mickey Pitts. How you doing, Mickey?”

“Fuck you,” Mickey said. He didn’t look very comfortable with three bullets in him and his hands cuffed behind his back. “Get me out of here.”

“Sure, sure,” Mac said.

“Three in the back,” Vince said. “Small caliber. No exit wounds.”

“Too bad.” Mac knelt and checked the holes in Mickey's back.

There was surprisingly little blood. Even though Mickey Pitts was the scum of the earth, I was glad he wasn’t dead.

George walked in with Rain right behind him.

I looked at George. “Are you sure Peri and Anemone are safe?”