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When Benny had first heard the shouting, he’d been kneeling in the dirt in the corner of Caesar’s tent. He’d had no idea what was happening outside, save that the Legion was being attacked, decimated even, by a force that they hadn’t expected.
He heard the screams next. At this point in his life, he’d heard that sound enough times before to know what dying men sounded like, but hell, it still wasn’t pleasant.
After that was a worrying silence. Benny had no idea who’d attacked the Legion, but took a guess that it wasn’t the NCR, or if the people that had had even survived. He glanced over to his captor, still seated on his throne, and his expression told Benny that he hadn’t anticipated this attack either. And that Caesar was concerned about the lack of noise.
From where he was positioned, Benny couldn’t see who walked through the tent, but if the quick gunfire and the dropping of Caesar’s bodyguards was any indication, they weren’t a friend of the Legion.
“Is that honestly all you've got?"
Benny couldn’t believe his ears. There she was, the woman who’d flipped his life upside down twice in a matter of weeks, covered in the blood of dead men and who had fury radiating from every pore that almost made him, Benny, shrink back in alarm.
But, hell, was she a vision anyway. Her armour left little of her shape to the imagination, and he’d recently been acquainted with what lay beneath, so even now, as he was tied up and kneeling in the corner of Caesar’s tent, he felt equally alarmed and aroused. He knew that feeling this way about a dame who’d murdered almost an entire army single-handedly, and who, after him leaving her in the middle of the night, probably had cause to murder him as well, was all kinds of wrong. But damn, if this was wrong then he didn’t want to be right.
Caesar said something back to her, the old man all shades of defiant, until she raised her rifle and shot him in the knee. He cried out in pain and slumped off the throne, and Benny didn’t know whether to be impressed about her lack of concern for the old man, or whether to be slightly scared by it. Although, considering the shit she would have had to have gone through chasing him all over the Mojave, he really should not have been surprised that she was that vicious and detached.
“Does it annoy you, Caesar, that your Legion was destroyed, not by the NCR, but by one, single woman?”
He spat something back in Latin, which by her blank expression, the Cour- Nikola didn’t understand.
She shot him a look, one that spoke volumes about how little she cared for him, his ‘cause’, or his long-dead language, as he lay in a pool of blood that was both his own and that of his dead guards. “You’re a disappointment, Caesar,” she replied flatly. “I expected more.”
The man had half a second to process what she’d said before she raised her rifle and put a bullet in his brain. As his body hit the floor, Benny had to wonder what that was like for her, considering that she’d been in that exact same position before.
He had little time to ponder as she rooted around in Caesar’s pockets, produced the Chip, and finally acknowledged him in the corner.
She walked over to him, placing her rifle back over her shoulder, which was a welcome sight, and crouched down in front of him. Grabbing his jaw with more care than he’d anticipated, she turned his face and examined the bruises that were beginning to form. “Your face was your only redeeming feature, Benny, and now it’s ruined.”
Her tone was light and teasing, and Benny had to stifle a laugh. He was having a hard time adjusting to this woman and her constantly changing moods, but it was a good sign that, even though he’d left her while she was a sleep, she wasn’t actively trying to kill him. Then again, leaving her in his bed had been an extremely hard thing for him to do, as she’d looked so perfect there, but it wasn’t the worst thing he’d done to her all things considered.
“Pussycat,” he said, his tone matching hers, “and here I thought you only liked me for my money.”
She rolled her eyes and let his jaw go, before grabbing him by the arms and hauling him to his feet. His ankles hadn’t been tied, and for that he was thankful, as if they had he probably would have fallen straight back over. He raised his arms and let out an appreciative sigh as Nikola cut the rope holding his hands together. Rubbing his wrists, he looked up. “So, baby, what now?”
“I’m going to take back Vegas,” she said, holding up the Chip, “and you’re going to help me.”
Benny’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “And what gave you that idea?”
“It won’t be too bad,” she replied, shooting him a hooded look that made him feel as if his pants were two sizes too small. “Sure, you’ll have to share power with me, but that’ll have its perks…” A finger, surprisingly free of blood, trailed its way down his neck and over the breast of his suit jacket.
Benny honestly couldn’t believe what had happened to him over the past few days. The woman who he was fairly certain was dead came back and ambushed him in his own casino; seduced him; had given him one of the best lays of his life, and hadn’t actually killed him afterwards; and had just offered him not only a way out of Caesar’s camp, but a place at the head of Vegas, which was what he’d been after all along.
He shot her a smile, or as much of a smile as he could manage with a split lip, and said, “Baby, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”