“Alright, talk.” I slammed the door shut behind us once we entered the studio space.
“Eager to be shot, are we?” Landon chuckled as he handed me the envelope. I opened it, pulled out the contract his superior had already signed, and inspected the wording closely.
“Far from it, but I have better things to do today than socialize with you,” I mumbled, tucking the contract away when everything looked good.
“Fucking your husband couldn’t be any better than being here with me.” He smirked, and I cringed at his words, a shiver trailing down my spine. He had the worst sense of humor.
“Just—” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes shut. “What do you need me to do?”
“Catch.” He spoke as he tossed me a disk that looked no bigger than a button on a coat.
My eyes widened in surprise when I opened them and reached out to catch the flying object before it hit the ground.
“What’s this?” I asked as I examined the quarter-sized black button in my hand.
It had one smooth side, and the other had sharp prongs, almost like tiny needles embedded into it.
“That is what you are going to inject yourself with right before I shoot you.” He pointed at the button in my hand. “You press your palm to the back while the sharp side rests against your skin; the dome will pop and inject you with the cocktail.” I continued to inspect the small disk, rolling it between my fingers, avoiding the sharp prongs on the underside. “That cocktail will give you roughly an hour before you bleed out.” Good to know, not at all reassuring…
“And where are you shooting me?” I asked, not actually wanting to know his answer, but it was all I could think of as the thought of bleeding out before I could get medical attention wracked my brain.
“Your chest. It has to look believable; shooting you anywhere else won’t pose a convincing impression.”
My attention snapped back up to him, my lips parting in shock.
“My chest?” Now, I really didn’t want to go through with this anymore. “And how can I be sure you won’t shoot me in my lung or heart at the same time?” I wouldn’t put it past him to set me up to get a cheap shot at me.
“You know our training. I won’t hit anything major, and if I do, our medic will be on you faster than your husband.” He assured me, seeming far too confident with his plan.
I stood there for several seconds, my hand wrapped around the disk and my head swimming with unsavory thoughts of death.
“Are we good here?” He asked at my extended silence.
I swallowed a dry lump in my throat and nodded.
“Yes…” I breathed, my anxiety soaring through the roof. “I got this.”
I could and would do this; there was no other choice. Colby or me.
I had training just like Landon; I knew how to handle extreme-pressure situations.
The only thing I had to do now was ensure my husband stayed out of the way. I would need to convince him I could handle this test independently without his assistance. Fuck.
Chapter 34
Colby
“Alex, get in thereand help her.” The officer ordered as I gripped onto his tactical vest tightly, ready to drive my fist through his jaw a second time. “You need to calm the fuck down, your wife will be fine.”
The man he called Alex skirted around us as he approached Nick and my wife with what appeared to be an oversized and fully stocked medical bag tucked under his arm.
“Fine? Does she look fucking fine to you?” I seethed, my eyes zeroed in on his. “You shot her in the fucking chest.” My voice cracked at the admission, understanding the gravity of her condition.
“And we were prepared for this—she was prepared for this.” He gripped onto my shoulders, and I loosened my hold on him.
“No… She wouldn’t—” I stammered, unable to comprehend his words—what he was claiming. My wife would never work with the LVSF.No fucking way.
“Ask her yourself once Alex brings her back. She’ll tell you everything.” He laughed as if this was all some sort of big joke and I had missed the punchline.