Page 51 of Blood & Kisses

But I know that it’s not just about me anymore. There are other victims, other girls they lured, manipulated, and raped, then used threats to keep their mouths shut.

With that thought fresh in my mind, I peer through the scope on this long-range rifle and have him in my sights. He’s not looking this way, but as his head turns toward us, I pull down the ski mask over my face. Blake slams on the brakes, and I jump out with the rifle, place it on the roof of the car, and find his head in the scope.

His mouth is open, shocked, frozen in time, as he stares down at us as if seeing ghosts. I squeeze the trigger, and the bullet hits the acrylic glass parapet, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

“Hurry up, Rae,” Blake’s voice is urgent, but I keep my hands steady, and my objective narrowed onto the rapist.

The Crow stumbles backward in fear as I squeeze the trigger again. This time, his head explodes while the window that he’s standing in front of smashes, and I assume that the bullet went straight through his head into the window.

“Done,” I bellow, climbing back into the car, and Blake screams down the road, driving at great speed as I try to catch my breath. I throw the rifle into the back seat as my skin under the ski mask itches and burns from the summer heat, combined with my skin being burnt from the fire.

“Don’t take it off,” Blake warns, “Not until I tell you.”

“I did it,” I gasp, tugging at the mask. “I did it.”

“Well done, babe, you did fucking amazing,” he champions me, and his hands wrap firmly around the steering wheel, heading directly toward where the red sedan is parked in a garage on the outskirts of this sleepy beach town.

My hands are trembling, my heart is racing, and I desperately want to remove the ski mask as sweat pours down my neck. “Yeah, I still prefer my costumes, though. A crow mask and big curly yellow clown wig were set aside specifically for the Crow assignment.”

Blake snorts. “Problem there, though, babe, is if we’re trying to make this murder look like Blackadder’s cronies committed it, they’re unlikely to dress like a clown. Keeping it simple is the best way.”

“Fair enough,” I wave my hand in front of my masked face to cool it down as sirens bleed out in the distance, coming from the neighboring town.

It takes only ten minutes to arrive at the garage, where we pull our ski masks off, jump out of the silver wagon, and climb inside the red sedan with all our gear. In my peripheral vision, a black figure appears from behind the garage, and I blurt, “Watch out,” to Blake before I get a decent look.

Blake cocks his eyebrows at the figure, and when I look again, the imposing figure, dressed all in black, takes his ski mask off to find that it’s Cormac underneath, and he’s carrying a long-range rifle in his right hand.

I open my mouth to speak to ask him where he’s been, but Blake puts his foot down on the accelerator, and we drive away more relaxed than before.

“He’s picking up the silver wagon and will dump it in a field and set it alight,” Blake explains as he drives out onto the open road toward Torres.

“Why was he carrying the rifle and dressed in combat gear?” I enquire, looking at Blake’s face to give me clues.

“Well…” he puffs his cheeks out like a blowfish as that mischievous expression that I’ve come to love washes across his face.

“What? What just happened, Blake?” I demand, knowing there’s something they’re not telling me.

“Don’t get angry, but…he took the shot,” he explains smoothly.

“Cormac?” I question if we’re talking about someone else in this weird reality. “I didn’t know he could shoot.” Then it hits me. “Wait. What shot? My shot? He took my shot?”

“Do you think we would let you assassinate that prick when you’ve only held a rifle for three point four hours,” he explains, half laughing at my huffing and puffing.

“You let me believe I took the shot,” I growl, although I’m not unhappy about it. I’m pleased it was a team effort.

“You were firing blanks,” he smirks with that dimple.

“Oh, fuck. Thanks for that,” I feign irritation when I’m actually relieved because I was not experienced enough.

“He was lying on the roof of the house opposite for the last twenty minutes and had that fat cunt in view, ready to blow his head off,” Blake reaches for the glove compartment and takes out two chocolate bars. Dropping one on my lap. “Eat up, sweetheart. You need sustenance after exerting yourself just now.”

“Ha, funny,” I hiss sarcastically, stifling my smile and avoiding his eye. At the same time, I remain focused on staring out the window at the blue sky as Blake switches the sound system on, and I relax into the seat with a wonderful sense of contentment. Objective achieved. Three out of four are dead, and only one more to go.

I let my eyes close under the sun's glare, a breeze blowing across my hot cheeks. With every deep breath, I fall into a slumber to the sound of the old country tunes that Blake seems to enjoy.

Something wet and bristly strikes my neck, and I snap awake, realizing it’s Blake’s kiss. “We’re here,” he says as he parks the red sedan behind the barn to swap with his old truck. “You’re alright, Rae?”

I nod, biting my lip as he cups my chin and runs his thumb along my plump bottom lip before claiming my mouth. “You did good, Rae,” he whispers into my mouth.

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