Page 9 of The Hero
“Punky?” she asked after a while.
Bob smiled. “Yeah.”
He heard her huff out a breath. “What does that mean?”
“Punky Brewster,” he told her.
“The kid from that eighties show?” she asked, a hint of incredulity in her tone. “You’ve seen it?”
“I don’t sleep much,” he admitted. Something his friends didn’t even know. “I watch a lot of reruns on TV when I can’t sleep. You remind me of her. Scrappy. Determined. Optimistic, even when things aren’t going your way.”
“I’m notanyof those things,” she protested.
“You are.”
“Not.”
Bob smiled again. “Are we really arguing about this?”
“You started it.”
A chuckle escaped that time. “Well, I’m gonna call you what I want, so there.”
“You’re weird,” she told him after a beat.
It was hard to believe he was in the middle of a dangerous op and actually having a little fun. “Yup.”
She was leaning against him, speaking into his ear. It was an intimate position, and Bob regretted that he couldn’t see her. Couldn’t pay as close attention to her as he’d like. He had to concentrate on the road, on not hitting any of the numerous potholes in the street. Be on alert for any kind of police activity.
“Did Tony really send you?” she asked, warm air from her words brushing over his ear and throat.
“In a roundabout way,” he told her honestly. “I’ve never spoken to your brother, but he knows the man who I work for, and he started the ball rolling.”
Another annoyed huff left her, and Bob smiled again. “That tells me nothing,” she complained. “Who are you? Is your name really Kendric?”
“It is,” Bob told her. “Kendric Evans. My friends call me Bob.”
It took a few seconds for her to respond, and when she did, Bob wasn’t really surprised by her reply. “Are you kidding me? Bob? Like Bob Evans, the restaurant?”
“One and the same.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It is,” he agreed.
“Why do you answer to it then?” she asked.
Bob opened his mouth to explain—until he caught sight of the one thing he hoped he wouldn’t, several blocks ahead. “Roadblock,” he told her. “Stay calm.” Adrenaline spiked in his own bloodstream, but he did his best to control it.
“Kendric,” she whimpered.
“Follow my lead,” he told her as calmly as he could.
“Why aren’t you turning off? Going down a different road?” she asked, and Bob could hear the panic in her voice.
“Because they’ve already seen us. If I turned, they’d get suspicious. I’ve got this,” he reassured her. “Like I said, follow my lead.”
“My shoes,” she said. “They’re going to recognize them.”
