The sneer left his face, replaced by a wary respect. He turned on his heel and cuffed himself around a slat in the headboard.
I couldn’t believe that had worked. Never taking my eyes from his, I tucked the gun into the back of my pants the way I’d seen Angelina do. I stared at him.
He stared at me. “Your plan doesn’t go any further than this, does it?” he asked.
Of course it didn’t. “Shut up.” Just to get away from that sarcastic nincompoop, I marched into the bathroom and slammed the door.