“I have plenty of tech on me,” he says. “I’ll be fine.”
From the bag emerges a handle, metallic blue. Then a barrel.
“A gun?” I gasp.
Jax frowns. “It belongs to Klaus. I only carry darts. But this one has bullets, the newest kind, I’d guess, impact charges.” He pops a magazine out. It’s clear, exposing eight cylinders in metallic red.
“They were testing these before I went to prison,” he says with a shake of his head. “When they hit organic tissue, muscle or bone, they explode out.”
I suck in a breath. “So you don’t even have to aim well.”
“Exactly.” He sticks the magazine back in and hands the gun to me by the handle.
I don’t want it. My whole belly shakes just looking at it.
“Vigilantes don’t kill unless they have to,” he says quietly.
I still don’t take it. “Why do you only use darts?” I ask.
“Because most of the poison we use has an antidote, a take-back. A second chance.” He turns the gun in his hand so that it glints in the overhead light. “There is no antidote to a bullet.”
He holds the handle out again.
I take it with trembling fingers. “No safety, right?” I ask.
“No safety,” he says grimly. He takes my hands and turns my fingers so they hold the gun correctly. “Squeeze here to shoot.”
My throat burns. I can barely swallow. “What do I do if they come out? Shoot them?”
“Let them go,” he says. “Only use this if they try to capture you. They tried to kill us before. They will again.”
“How will I know who they are?”
He flips open his phone and hits a button. “This is Jovana,” he says.
I don’t really want to look at the image, but I have to.
Well, hell. She’s beautiful. Dark hair. Petite face. Dangerous and exotic.
“This is Klaus,” he says. He brings up an image of a man with blond hair.
I frown. So this is the man who felt me up in the dark. I still haven’t told Jax about that. I have a feeling I shouldn’t.
“Okay, I’ve got it,” I say.
He squeezes my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Come here.” He takes the gun and places it on the floorboard. Then he pulls me against him, over the console. “I’m counting on you to be here and ready to get us out. Okay? If I come walking, scoot over and I’ll drive. If I’m running, meet me so I can jump in.”
I look out the window. It’s a good fifty yards to the arena door. “Gotit.” I sound more convincing than I feel.
“Good girl,” he says against my hair. He gives me a light kiss on the lips. “Don’t message me unless you need to. It might be a distraction. I’ll send you information on a need-to-know basis.”
“Okay,” I say. I open my door and come around to the driver’s side.
Jax steps out and lets me take his spot.
He closes the door. For a few seconds the interior light stays on, then it fades out.
Jax tugs his hat lower on his forehead and strides toward the back door of the arena.
