Bryan Smith: The Killing Kind

Rob looked at her lips. God, he hadn’t known Revlon or whothefuckever made a shade of lipstick that bright, that red. And the way the lips looked, so plump and moist…holy hell…he ached to kiss her. Which was about six thousand shades of fucked-up, given the circumstances. He made himself swallow again and said, “What do you…hate?”

There it was. That quaver he’d expected to hear before.

“Liars.”

Rob’s brow furrowed as he squinted at her. “What?”

“Liars. I fucking hate liars.”

Rob couldn’t help it-he laughed. “Hold on. You have no problem with threatening to kill a guy and steal his car, but you hate liars?”

“That’s right.”

Rob grunted. “Huh. Well…shit, I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“You don’t need to say a goddamn thing. Your approval isn’t something I require, liar boy.”

“You’re not very nice.”

She almost smiled. It was very quick and he nearly missed it-just the slightest and most fleeting twitch at the edges of her mouth. There and gone in the space of a nanosecond. “No shit. What was your first clue? The gat in your gut or my sweet disposition?”

“Did you just say ‘gat’?”

“Yeah. Problem?”

“It makes you sound like a gangster moll in some old movie.”

“So?”

Rob thought, This conversation is insane.

He shrugged. “Whatever. Just an observation.”

Rob’s head turned slightly at the sound of an approaching motor. A silver Hyundai was pulling up on the opposite side of the pump. The girl saw the Hyundai and pressed herself against him. Her lips were soft against his ear. “Put your arms around me.”

“What?”

She made an almost inaudible sound that nonetheless managed to convey deep exasperation. “Hold me, you fucking idiot. You’ve got about five seconds to make these people think I’m your girlfriend. Unless you want me to shoot you now and blow them away, too?”

Rob didn’t bother commenting on the craziness inherent in this question, but only because there was no time. The Hyundai’s doors were opening. He put his arms around the girl and drew her close. She pressed against him. He suppressed a whimper as the gun sight dug harder into his navel. A middle-aged man stepped between gas pumps en route to the Kwik Mart and shot an approving half smile-half smirk at Rob. The guy was a bit on the heavy side and probably envied Rob more than a little right then. An even heavier middle-aged woman with sagging breasts appeared and followed him toward the convenience store. She glanced at Rob and his “girlfriend” and scowled, which did nothing to enhance an already sour expression. Probably knew her man had been ogling the superhot chick in his arms. Rob figured any jealousy either of them felt would vanish if they could see the gun.

Rob watched the portly couple enter the Kwik Mart and sighed. “They’re gone.”

The girl didn’t say anything for a long second. Her lips were pressed against his ear, and he felt her draw in a slow breath. “Okay.” Another second or two passed. “Let go and ease back.”

Rob did as ordered, removing his arms from her waist and shuffling backward a step. He glanced at the gun and then looked her in the eye again. “So what now?”

The girl turned her head to stare at the strip mall across the street. Rob sensed she was searching for something specific. He followed her gaze, but couldn’t identify whatever it was. There were a lot of cars over there and a number of random people strolling through the parking lot. Hard to tell what she was looking for, but in another moment he detected a new sense of urgency from her. It was evident in her suddenly rigid posture and a slight quickening of breath. She stepped back and slipped the gun back inside the tote bag, but held the bag in a way that made it clear the gun was still pointed right at him.

“What happens now is you finish up here and open the passenger door for me, just as if I really am your girlfriend. Then you go around to the other side and get in behind the wheel. You do all this smooth as shit or I will really fucking kill you, man, no joke.”

Rob studied her steely expression.

She definitely was not joking.

He removed the gas nozzle from the rear of the Galaxie 500 and docked the handle on the pump cradle. The pump’s digital display asked him if he wanted a receipt. He pushed the button marked N and turned back to the car. The girl was already waiting for him on the convertible’s passenger side. He circled the car and pulled the door open for her. The car’s top was down. So were the windows. Of course. It was a nice, sunny day. Only a jackass would cruise around in a cool old car like this with the top up on a day like this. But now Rob wished it had been raining. With the top and the windows down, there would be no blind spots for the psycho chick as he circled back around the car, and she would have a clear shot at him the whole time.

Her smile told him she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Close the door after me like a gentleman and get in. And be cool about it. I feel like anything hinky is happening, I’ll start blazing.”

“Hinky?”

The girl gave him a quick peck on the cheek-presumably for the benefit of any casual observers, a continuation of the boyfriend-girlfriend charade-and smoothly eased herself into the Galaxie’s passenger seat. Rob wiped lipstick from his cheek and stared for a second at the bright smear of red on his thumb. It looked like blood.

Fuck, he thought. This is really happening.

Run. For fuck’s sake, run.

The girl was looking up at him, her expression hard again. And her right hand was in the tote bag again. “This,” she said.

“What?”

“This thing you’re doing. Standing there.” The girl’s hand moved inside the tote bag. “It’s hinky. You should do something to ease my mind right about now.”

Rob started moving. He was shaking. The hard asphalt beneath his feet felt like it was on the verge of turning into quicksand. That would be great, actually. Super. Let the world open up and swallow him whole. It couldn’t be any worse than having some crazy chick with a gun take him for a ride down the highway to hell, which was sure to be a dead end.

Emphasis on dead.

Somehow, though, he managed to reach the Galaxie’s other side without falling over or otherwise freaking out. A miracle. He opened the driver-side door and slid in behind the car’s big red steering wheel.

He pulled the door shut and started shaking again. “Oh, Christ. Fuck. Oh, fuck.”

The girl stared at him. “Scared?”

“Shitless.”

“Good. You’ll be fine as long as you’re too scared to try anything stupid.”

“Okay.”

“Start the car.”

Rob stared at his right hand and made himself concentrate until it stopped shaking. The key was already in the ignition. He twisted it and the old V-8 engine roared to life.

He leaned back against the seat and looked at the girl again. “What now?”

“Hold on.”

She set the gun on the dash and began to root around in the tote bag. He heard a lot of things clanking around. He looked at her. The whole of her attention seemed focused on the task of locating something inside the bag. He looked at the gun.

He reached for it.

Her fist came out of nowhere, drilling hard into the side of his nose. Pain snapped through him and he rocked backward in his seat. A trickle of blood leaked from one nostril and dribbled past his lips into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he stared at her. The gun was still on the dash. But any thought of reaching for it again withered and died. Rob’s mind reeled. The world was spinning off its axis. The things happening to him were so completely alien and beyond the realm of his experience. He’d seen his share of schoolyard scraps like anyone else, but no one in his adult life had ever punched him. The violence was beyond shocking.