Page 116 of Trigger Happy

Better.

I stash the gun in my jeans, making sure the safety’s on. The last thing I need is to get my dick blown off in the middle of fuck-knows Wyoming.

“Lawton!” Arch shouts. “Hey! Wait, man. Where are you going?”

As far away from this woman as I can, because I might not be able to kill her, but she’s dead to me.

55Sabrina

Lawton’s gone.

I can’t breathe.

Lawton’s gone.

My chest.

Lawton’s gone.

“I’ll go after him,” Arch says, jogging through the forest, so I’m left alone the Psycho Sunshine Girl herself.

I force my arms to push myself up, ignoring the twinge of pain from landing hard on my healing shoulder. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the betrayal in Lawton’s eyes. Or the tremble in his hand.

That’s all I noticed.

His hand, that little tremble.

I never wanted Lawton to find out about Walker. At the beginning, I was trying to protect myself, but somewhere in between his fake proposal and the rodeo kiss, it became about protecting him. I’d almost rather him think I’m a murdering bitch than destroy him with the truth. All I can think about is how this will break him, and how much I don’t want him broken.

The truth is always simple, but I’ve become so used to trying on various personas that it’s rarely easy for me to say. I’ve used so many weapons to hurt people, to tear into their flesh, but never words. They’re the only weapon strong enough to break a person’s soul.

And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break his soul.

“Guess it’s just you and me now,” Bobbi says, a sneer on her lips. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out—

“Pepper spray?” I say, wincing as I stand up.

There’s no way I can fight her off. Time for plan C. Make a run for it and risk getting a pepper burn.

She shrugs. “It’s all I’ve got left, and I’m not about to pull a gun on you after Lawton gave the whole ‘don’t hurt her’ spiel, but if he’s not going to kill you…”

“Kill me? Are you serious, Bobbi?” I shout, panting. I’m so done with all of this. Lawton’s gone and I need to go after him. “I liked you before everything, and you know what? Corpse Candles actually is a brilliant idea. Disgusting, but brilliant.”

She lowers the pepper spray, and I can tell I’m getting through to her, so I keep going. “I don’t lie to women I respect, so I wouldn’t lie to you, but if you want to believe your dead, serial-killing ex over me, then fine. Choose him.”

She opens her mouth, but then something moves behind her.

For one glorious heartbeat, I think it’s Lawton coming back, but my heart deflates when I realize the thing coming out of the pines has claws, fur, and bloodthirsty eyes, so unless Lawton has a hidden recessive werewolf gene, that’s a giant mountain lion.

I’d definitely prefer werewolf Lawton.

Bobbi has her pepper spray locked on me, but the mountain lion’s yellow eyes are trained on her. Or should I call it a puma? Or a cougar? Whatever it is, the giant cat is about to maul Bobbi. If I were morally black instead of morally gray, I would let the puma/cougar/cat-lion handle Bobbi—using its teeth.

But my brain decides to play this really inconvenient flashback montage of us splitting pink seltzer on her porch, painting our nails muted fall tones, and all those dinners we gorged ourselves on (ugh) trout. I’m so done with fish. Our friendship wasn’t deep, and it wasn’t real, but it was the only one I had.

So, fine. I won’t let the mountain lion shred her like a rotisserie chicken. I want to be the one to kill her, anyway.

The bear spray is in my backpack, which is too far, and I don’t have time to google whether bear spray can also be used on cougars, so I lift my arms and drop my voice as deep as it will go, trying to embody the aura of a fearless, flannel-wearing lumberjack.