“Don’t get cocky, the next one’s coming.”
Just as he said it, the target went up, I fired, and it went down. I could actually hit the target!
I exclaimed with glee, “Keep talking about your girl problems! It’s helping me!”
“Bollocks, no!” he said with a small laugh. “You’ll have to earn my personal life. You’ll get the sordid details when you're able to shoot a moving target out of a car.”
“Wow, you really want me to become James Bond.”
Five more targets, and I got two of them. My stats were better today than the last time he brought me out here.
“You can leave the James Bond-ing to me.” A smirk formed on his lips. “But we train for all contingencies. You never know what could happen.”
The target popped, and again, I tried to shoot it but missed.
“I doubt it’ll ever come to that.”
“Famous last words, Picasso.”
Chapter one
Color My Canvas
Eoghan
Iwanted Aoibheann, bless her heart, and Jericho out of my fucking home.Sooner, rather than later.
I had never liked Vasiliev, and throwing my step mum at him when I was still in the midst of my own sorrows had not been my most honorable move. Then again, their story had ended quite happily, as the waifish, sullen Aoibheann bloomed in her marriage.
He’d fought for her, and been a good husband to her. He’d won my begrudging respect, and I owed her my loyalty after I had wronged her. But I still hated his face on a visceral level. His smarmy smile was full of that secrecy—a kind of duping delight.The man had something up his sleeve, always, and it was written in the way he moved and the way his eyes darted about.
Like he was an alien reptile, in a human skin suit.
My hatred of him was only confirmed as he looked at my wife, his eyes full of unsaid meaning. “The war is coming.”
I wanted to get my wife alone, so that I could interrogate her about what transpired between them. Even if I had to employ some coercive techniques to get the answers, maybe in the form of ropes, and the excruciation of pleasure withheld, that was a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.
“Thank you for your visit, Aoibheann. You are always welcome here. But that only extends to you, Rose and Dairo, and the little one that’s giving you that wonderful glow.” It pained me to compliment her, still. My old lingering resentments that she’d replaced my mother were still unreasonably lodged in my consciousness. I swallowed it down. “However, your groom is best left in the car, with a window cracked.”
Aoibheann smirked, looking down before wiping the expression away, as Jericho narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Irish pup—” Jericho said with his characteristic sneer, but was cut off.
I snapped my head to the side when the distinct sound of two gunshots rang out.
I immediately sprinted for Kira, wrapping my arms around her, screaming “Bloody hell!”
They were coming from the kitchen, and I threw myself between her and the noise.
There was a scream, and the rushing of footsteps, the familiar heavy sounds of boots running on marble.
“Cillian!” My wife gasped, before she ran into the hall out of sight, towards the bedroom where our son slept.
“Straighten out your house, Irish. I will protect your wife, and mine.” Jericho took his wife’s hand. “Let’s go, Eve.”
I grabbed Aoibheann by the arm, hissing out, “The child…”
I didn’t need to finish.