Page 39 of Blood & Kisses

“How?” I’m confused, but security technology is one area I know little about.

“Face recognition scanner at the front door and other places about the house. You’re already preprogrammed into the computer as ‘friendly,” he replies with a cheeky grin. I’m satisfied, and I drop the conversation. “Although I’d question your friendliness at this moment. Getting a little volatile, sweetheart.”

His charm worked, and I graced him with a smile as my jets cooled and I relaxed.

“Anyway,” he adds, “hurry up and finish breakfast. We’ve got some targets to destroy.”

20

Blake places the AK47 in my hands and points to the cans on the fence several yards away. We spent an hour at the shooting range, where his goal was for me to get used to a firearm in my hands before encouraging me to aim for the targets. An AK47 is on a different level of power than the firearm I used in the shooting range, though.

I peer through the scope, pretending to know what the fuck I’m doing when it’s all so foreign. There’s a moment of doubt stirring in my stomach where I wonder if it’s worth it. Should I forget it? Should I move on with my life and let my predators be?

Gabe’s smooth voice echoes in my mind like, reminding me that there are other victims younger than me, and my finger finds the trigger and squeezes. My arm propels backward from the pressure as a splice of pain shudders up my arm.

“Jeez,” I gasp, looking to Blake beside me, watching me precariously.

“You missed by miles,” he points out, taking the rifle from my hands and peering through the scope. “I think you hit one of those trees in the field by the creek.”

“What? That’s nowhere near the cans,” I’m horrified as I rub my aching shoulder at how bad my shot was.

“Lie on the grass on your stomach,” he insists, and I shoot him a warning look. Reading my scowl, “That was not a come-on, Rae. Not this time, anyway. You might shoot better on the ground to steady your aim.”

I do as he suggests, and he hands me the AK47, and I find this position is much better. I peer through the scope, find the middle can on the fence, and squeeze the trigger. I strike the can and raise my fist to celebrate. “Yeah, mother fucker.”

“Shot,” Blake states proudly, clapping. “Now, hit the next one.”

Again, I peer through the scope to find the next can; when it feels right, I squeeze the trigger. I hit the can with a smile, but it occurred to me that my target, the Crow, although he’s a physically large man, is a moving target, unlike these cans. Am I really good enough to hit him on the first strike? “You’ll be backing me up, won’t you?”

“I’ll be there all the way, Rae,” he explains as the sound of a vehicle approaching on the lonely road. Blake turns in that direction and doesn’t seem concerned. “If you believe you can’t take the shot, I’ll step in. But we can’t waste time when we’re in the moment, so you’ve got to communicate with me.”

“Okay,” I sigh as I sit up to watch the vehicle, a pick-up truck with bails of hays on the back, drive past on the road several yards away. I doubt he could see us that well, nestled amongst trees and grass, but he’d hear the gunshots as they echo throughout the empty spaces. “Whose land is this?”

Blake shrugs as if he’s not bothered or knows but doesn’t care. “Wait until that truck has passed before shooting the next target.” Those brown eyes run over my backside and bare, smooth, tanned legs, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn him, and he grins.

“You’re a dang hot woman, Rae,” he implies unabashedly, still perving at my backside covered in khaki shorts.

“With a gun,” I assert, gazing up at that likable face. “Just saying.”

“Point taken,” he grins, rubbing his unshaven chin with his knuckles. “A woman must have her boundaries.”

“We must,” I reply, smiling at my win, even though these men can just look at me a certain way, and my clit pangs. I can fight against this weakness or go with the flow, or maybe it’s not a weakness but a celebration of my body.

The pick-up truck disappeared down the stony road, and Blake signaled to me to take another shot. “The can on the far left,” he suggests as the sun’s sharp rays burn the back of my legs as dribbles of sweat run down my neck. It’s the hottest part of the day, and I lie in the sun.

Just as I’m about to squeeze the trigger, the shadow of a bird flies over me, making me flinch. I miss the can, but the sound of the gunshot echoes, and I worry that a local farmer will think we’re trying to kill a cattle beast.

“Again,” Blake states. “You jumped. If you will use that weapon safely, you must steady your nerves.”

“We’re running out of cans,” I state the obvious.

“This time, I want you to hit the can on the far right, under the shadow of the hanging branch,” he explains, and I change positions slightly to aim the furthest away from me.

“Does Gabe know that you work for Smiler?” I ask curiously as my finger lightly rests on the trigger, and I close one eye to peer through the scope.

“There’s not a lot that Gabe doesn’t know,” he replies, standing slightly behind me. “Concentrate.”

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