But something that my mother had taught me long ago about protecting women, some shred of decency that still lingered after all that the world had taught me, made me sigh before I said, “You’re coming with me.”
“No!” she squeaked. “You’re a stranger. This is a terrible part of town.”
“Do you want to be alone?”
She looked around and crossed her arms a little tighter. There was a guy on the corner doing heroin while sitting with his back against a wall. He had track marks on his arm, and the needle probably wasn’t sterile. The ragged blanket he was sitting on probably hadn’t been washed in a few years.
“No.” Her voice was small. Her shoulders hunched a little. She looked like a lost little girl, even though she was dressed like a temptress.
“Then you’re coming with me.” I looked at her shoes. “The sidewalk here isn’t even. You’re going to break your ankles. I don’t have time for that.” Before she could say anything, I picked her up in my arms.
“Oh my god! Put me down!” She started slapping at my face, shoulders, and arms.
“Stop that.” I pretended to start to drop her, which made her cling to my neck instead of trying to wiggle free. I could smell her perfume when she moved closer to me. She smelled like lilies and rain. I could feel myself getting hard just from that. Damn. From this angle, I could see straight down her cleavage even though the dress wasn’t that low cut. I forced myself to stop looking.
“I’m too heavy,” she protested. “You’re going to drop me.”
“You don’t weigh anything,” I said. “I’ve carried packs twice your weight in the godforsaken desert.” I shut up. Those missions were still classified.
“Where are we going?” She seemed to be rolling with the punches now and was resting her head against my shoulder. Or maybe she was just waiting for her chance to get free.
“A business meeting,” I said.
“What kind of business meeting?” she asked.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“But…”
I shifted her into a fireman’s carry so I could spank her ass. “Enough with the questions already. When we get there, just keep your mouth shut and look pretty.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, upside down and trying to kick her way free. “Put me down!”
“Behave, or your ass is going to be so sore you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
She didn’t stop, though. This little half-drunk wildcat was going to hurt herself. I swatted her ass as a warning.
“Ow!”
“Stop wiggling.” I was ten minutes late now. Don Lorenzo was a paranoid fucker who used cell-phone jammers and didn’t allow strange vehicles within a mile of his place, which was why I was on foot and carrying a squirming bundle of club-hopping bunny to a meeting before she got herself robbed and killed looking like that in a place like this. She’d chosen the wrong place for her car to break down.
“You could’ve called Triple A, you know.” She was a little muffled when she was talking upside down.
“No time,” I said. “And cell phones don’t work here.”
“Really? Yours doesn’t work, either? I tried to call someone, anyone, but I didn’t have a signal.”
I snorted. “You’re definitely not from around here.”
“Why doesn’t the cell phone company put in a tower?”
“Signals are jammed,” I said. Her dress was riding higher with each step I took, and I could see an expanse of smooth skin and luscious ass right next to my face. She was wearing a lacy thong. I licked my lips. I was probably going to hell for the kinds of thoughts I was having about her.
“Who would do that?” she asked. “That’s a dick move.”
She was either stupid or innocent. Or both. “We’re about to meet him.”
“Who?”