I put my hands on my hips. “I pushed you, you liar. And you started it!” I pointed a finger at him. “I came here to get a weapon, and I’m not leaving without one.”

Fish’s eyes drifted just above my head, widening. “You go ahead and talk to boss then. Boss kick you out if you won’t go.” Muttering under his breath commenced that sounded like “cheap whore” again.

I turned around and found myself looking at a rather wide chest, and when I looked down, the wide chest dipped to a narrow waist wrapped in a sheet. A barely there white sheet.

Eyes up, Breena, eyes up!

I forced my eyes upward much as they wanted to linger on those perfectly sculpted abs.

The boss, whatever his name was, looked down at me, the exhaustion on his face doing little to disguise the irritation there, or the sharply handsome features. His hair was so black that the light gave it little colored highlights. Blue eyes flecked with gold stared down at me. “What the hell is all this noise about?”

“She is cheap whore,” Fish said. I spun around.

“Listen here, you knock it off or I’ll turn you into sushi!” I snapped the words, using my best imitation of my grandmother.

The boss blew out a breath behind me. “I’m not getting any sleep until you leave. What is your budget?”

I swallowed hard. “Low.”

“How low?”

I fanned out what remained of my money. “That’s it.”

He frowned and seemed to wake up a little more, and I looked down at my graveyard dirt-stained capris, and the shirt I’d pulled on that morning that had a few holes along the bottom hem. “You look like a tourist who got lost. How did you find this place?”

“BJ.” I smiled and then frowned. “What is that place with all the vendors called?”

“Death Row,” the boss said. “You were on Death Row and you didn’t get a weapon there? Why not?” His frown eased off his face and I found myself staring hard at him. It was hard not to look, given his beautifully formed features and body. No one should be allowed to be that perfect.

Which only made me think of just how soft I was, so very imperfect. I pulled my head out of the mental beating I was giving myself and propped a hand on one hip.

“You mean besides the fact that the twins are about as charming as a pair of turds doing a tango? Their metal looked thin, and when I touched it . . . I didn’t like it. There were small hairline cracks in everything. I don’t want something that’s going to break the first time I use it.” I shrugged. Look at me go, throwing twenty-plus years of being normal out the window. If it feels off, listen to your gut, Gran had told me time and time again. And for the first time in twenty-some-odd years, I was doing just that.