Exit Strategy, Tome 3 : Final Lover

Another barrage of bullets slammed into the concrete wall. Justin ducked his head lower, grateful the barrier he was leaning against was thick. In the back of his mind, he was counting down. Another thirty seconds and then Gabriel should…would be in position. When the bullets stopped, he swung around and fired at the mob muscle that was trying to end his life and failing miserably. The bruiser with the shaved head and heavy tattoos up his arms shouted and dropped for cover.

“I was thinking we just rip out all the plumbing in the second bathroom as well as the wall for that hall closet. We expand the bathroom so we can double the size of the shower,” Justin suggested calmly into the little mic he was wearing.

“Why do you want to double the size of the shower?” Gabriel whispered into his earpiece.

“So we can both fit.” Justin smirked and shook his head. He’d thought the answer to that question was obvious. “Put a couple of shower heads in there and maybe one of those big benches that’s all tiled over with those really slick, smooth tiles.”

“I get that you want to fuck in the shower, but—hold on.” A couple of muffled shots came over the earpiece. There was a sharp cry and a heavy thud. “But I don’t understand why you want to renovate that bathroom,” Gabriel continued without missing a beat. “It’s not the master bath. It’s on the opposite side of the house. It would be used mostly by guests, assuming we ever have guests.”

Gunfire roared closer to Justin now. The damn tattooed asshole had gotten his Uzi refilled and was once again peppering the low wall Justin was leaning against. This was getting irritating. The guy wasn’t making a damn bit of progress.

“Because the master bath already has the giant bathtub we can both fit in. I figured if we wanted a little variety, we could use the shower in the other bathroom.”

“You’re all the variety I can handle,” Gabriel muttered. “Heads up.” Gabriel fired two quick shots, but this time they sounded like they were at the opposite end of the long warehouse. The onslaught of bullets immediately stopped. Justin poked his head over the wall to find Gabriel standing over the bruiser as he put another bullet in the man’s chest.

“It’s called a ‘double tap’ for a reason,” Justin said as he stood and started crossing the main floor toward his boyfriend. “Double means two. Two shots.” He held up two fingers on his empty hand.

“I’m sorry. Are we rationing our bullets now? I didn’t know I was dating a bullet miser.”

“Hey, I’m just saying the third shot was overkill.”

Glaring at Justin, Gabriel blindly pointed his gun at the dead man and unloaded two more shots into his chest. “That’s overkill. The original three shots were being careful.”

“And now you have to replace your magazine.”