”“Scary?” Fish arched an eyebrow ridge. “Normally, people go for sexy.”Fighting the cyber-zombie with the grenade launcher arm was less emba...rassing, Tiff thought as she let her head slowly drift down to bonk against the wooden top of the bar. “Sexero, sexeray...” She muttered, then looked up. “Listen, I’m new to this whole space thing.”“First trip out?” Fish asked, swinging her legs up under her and settling down on the bar next to Tiff. She sat on it casually, without seeming to worry that. At the sight of Max, the men lounging on the brown leather couches stopped talking and sat ramrod straight. Each of the assembled men respected and feared him. Max's ever-present Desert Eagle weighed heavily on their minds. His temper was famously short, but he paid well and rewarded their good behavior as surely as he punished bad behavior."Where's O'Donnell and my fucking Jeep? And where the fuck is that Driscol girl?" Max roared. Each man cowed when his gaze stabbed in their direction. It. More

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