Yara is staring at me now like I've grown wings, or maybe horns. Her mouth trembles. I meet her eyes and nod once.
"I told you I had a plan," I say.
Scar-Lip glances around, clearly rethinking his entire afternoon. "You think this is gonna work?" he asks. "We have friends, a base. You think they'll just let you walk out?"
"I don't plan to walk. I plan to run. After I make sure you can't follow." I shrug.
He laughs bitterly. "You'll never make it out of the city. We have patrols. Allies. Word'll spread."
"Let it," I say. "By the time anyone finds us, we'll be ghosts."
He thinks he's had me distracted and tries to get smart by lunging.
I expect it, pivoting as his shoulder brushes mine. I slam the butt of the pistol into his jaw. He stumbles. I kick his leg out from under him and he goes down hard.
I press the muzzle against his temple. "That was dumb."
He spits blood onto the floor, glaring up at me. "You don't have the guts."
"Try me."
