But yeah, inverted triangle or heart with the kind of cheekbones that cut high and hollowed out underneath. Her eyes were dark - as Lou had described - almost black, but almond-shaped and surrounded by thick lashes - the kind that seemed likely to be natural since there wasn't a swipe of makeup on her face.
My gaze moved down a bit, taking in her mouth, the lower lip plump, a bit oversized, giving her a perpetual pouty look.
Her skin was on the light side considering she was Latina. I couldn't help but wonder if it was winter, if she would golden up in the spring and summer months.
"You're lost," she declared immediately, putting her arm up, hand grabbing the jamb, taking up space, making it clear she had no intentions of being pushed around even if that were my intention. Despite the short shorts and tank top that didn't exactly instill fear.
"Actually, Liv, I'm not. You have something that belongs to me."
Her dark eyes flickered with something I didn't know her well enough to interpret.
"If that's the case, you're not getting it back. So you can still leave."
"I'm afraid I am going to need my guns back, mami," I told her, shrugging.
At that, her body stiffened inch by inch.
"Oh, a Henchmen. How did you find me?" she asked, her hand closing on the door handle harder, almost as though she was preparing to whack me in the face with it.
Which, well, maybe she was.
"We have people."
"You have Hailstorm," she corrected, chin angling up a bit.
"We do. So when I say it's probably best just to give me back what you stole from me, it is probably an understatement."
"Can't give you back what I have already sold. sorry, bud."
"Bud?" I shot back, chuckling.
"You need to leave."
"See, now... I can't do that. I'm not leaving, in fact, until I get those guns back."
"I just told you I don't have them."
"I'm not saying I need those exact guns back, but I need ones just like it, princess. And I'm afraid I can't leave until I have them. So get on your contacts," I suggested, planting a hand against the door, pushing it in, catching her off-guard enough to push her sock-clad feet backward with it.
I didn't, however, plan on how fast she could move, how prepared she was.
Her body flew behind the door, whirling back, a gun in her hands, cocking it with her other hand as she moved another step away - just out of arm's reach.
"Get the fuck out," she demanded, voice steel even as I only moved inward more, but taking a couple steps back, not wanting to provoke her because something in me said she wouldn't hesitate to use the gun she was holding in steady hands, aimed perfectly for a headshot.
"Liv, why is the door... oh," the other woman who lived there's voice said, pulling to a stop inside the door, looking at Liv, then me, then Liv again, not so much as stiffening up at the situation.
"Astrid, go. Get Camden," Liv demanded, keeping her gaze on me.
"Since when do we pull guns on outlaw gun runners?" Astrid asked, ignoring Liv as she moved inside, shrugging out of her jacket. "And, I mean, we can't kill him," she added, moving toward me, stopping right in front of me, head cocked to the side a bit.
She was pretty too, this Astrid.
But in a different way.
An almost rougher way with her keen hazel eyes, her strange lack of fear.
"He's too cute to die, don't you think?" she asked, walking her fingers up my stomach and chest.
"No, I don't think," Liv answered her friend, voice somehow exasperated, amused, and chastening all at once. Almost like a mom's voice.
"Liar," Astrid shot back, moving a slow circle around me.
I thought just to inspect me further as her hand ran across my ribs, my back, down.
That was until her hand closed around my gun, pulling it out of my waistband as she circled fully around me, holding it up.
"Now. It's just plain rude to bring a gun to someone's house the first time you visit, no? I mean a nice pie, a bag of good quality coffee beans, one of those reed diffuser things? Sure. A gun? Not so much. But we thank you for your hostess gift anyway," she declared, moving over to place it down on the table behind the door where Liv must have had the one stashed that was now in her hands still pointed at me.
"I think the place could use a nice reed diffuser," Liv agreed, making my brows draw together as I watched the two, calm as could be about an outlaw biker in their apartment.
Maybe because they were the only ones with guns.
But I had the distinct feeling that wasn't the case.
"Right? Like right here,"Astrid suggested, waving my loaded gun toward the table beside the door that was almost toppling with unopened mail. "A reed diffuser. Maybe one of those big glass vases filled with like those decorative balls and shit. That's what we're supposed to have, right? We just don't have the friends to give them to us, you know,... what's your name?"