Page 34 of Last Man Standing

Me:

La Bruja?

Mav:

Yep! You’re on the clock. If you don’t make a move soon, I see a convoy coming to you. And trust me, you don’t want that heat.

Me:

I’m a big boy, and threatening me with my mom stopped scaring me when I was eleven.

Not.

Arabella Aster is a terrifying beast no man survives meeting in battle.

Me:

I’m waiting on my contact out in Denver to tell me what’s happening. I can’t move until I know, and I can’t leave my mark here alone. La Bruja will have to wait.

Mav:

I’m just saying! Bastion is deteriorating, which means her tolerance for your tardiness is, too.

You’re willingly trading his last days for work?

Me:

Not willingly! But this chick I’m watching can’t be left alone.

Mav:

She a threat?

Me:

Only to her own psyche. She’s been through some shit, and she sure as fuck doesn’t want me here, but leaving is the wrong thing to do.

As soon as I know, you’ll know. You gotta keep La Bruja pacified until then.

How’s that thing with Chelsea? You still leaning that way?

I hear him laughing. Jesus, even with the eight driving hours between us, I know he’s cackling.

Mav:

We decided to go our separate ways. It was very respectful.

Me:

AKA: You got laid, you sampled the forbidden fruit, and now you’re done.

Mav:

You make it sound crass! Not wrong, but still, crass. She was happy with our arrangement, so don’t worry yourself.

You still talking to that other chick?

Serena?