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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ST. CLARE

My limbs are locked up and not feeling great when I make my way out of the bedroom the next morning. Lars and Perry are who the fuck knows where, and without coffee to give me a jump start, they’re both going to have to put up with me being grumpy and on edge.

A gunshot rips through the air, and I hit the deck fast. My heart is in my throat as I glance around, wait for a shout or an answering fire or something , but all I see are dirty hardwood floors and the dusty underside of the kitchen counter.

Then, a second later, the shot is followed by a muffled voice.

I ease myself from the ground and creep toward the window at the side of the cabin that looks out toward where Lars had a fire last night.

“I told you!”

That’s Perry’s voice. I move faster, pulling the tattered curtain aside to see him and Lars, both holding guns pointed toward the tree line. With no bad guys in sight.

I’m going to fucking kill them.

I cross the cabin and stalk outside to where Perry is loading up his gun again. Before I can reach them, he lets off another shot that hits the center of the circle they’ve cut into the tree bark .

“No way,” Lars says. “Lucky shot.”

“You said that the first time.”

“And I meant it that time too.”

“Should I try for third time lucky?”

“Or maybe,” I cut in, startling them both, “you could try for not scaring the shit out of me when I’ve just woken up.”

Perry covers his mouth, and of course it’s with the hand holding his gun, leaving me astounded that he hasn’t shot himself already. “Fuck. I didn’t even think about that.”

Him? Not thinking? I’m shocked.

Lars tilts his head. “I guess that explains the warnings about a miscommunication for you today.”

“Sure. Because the horoscope obviously knew I’d wake up to gunfire.”

Lars busies himself with checking his own gun’s barrel. “It also said to watch the snapping at people.”

“There’s no way it said that.”

“It definitely said that.” He pulls out his phone and shows me the screen. Curb your instinct to snap at people.

“Well, now it’s just trolling me.”

Lars laughs, and Perry creeps closer. “What does mine say?”

“Aries, right?”

So help me, Perry lights up. “You remembered.”

“Not a single thing you do lets me forget,” Lars mutters as he looks up, I’m assuming, Perry’s horoscope. “Okay. Aries. Everything seems like a mess right now”—Lars throws me a smug grin—“but that’s only because you can’t see the end result. You’re in the middle of a major life upheaval. Stop doubting yourself and tap into your natural inner confidence to see this through to the end.”

Perry’s jaw drops. “Wow.”

Lars whistles and looks back toward the tree they were shooting. “Looks to me like you have no issue with confidence.”

“That’s just shooting. It’s not hard.”

“It’s very hard.” Lars lifts his gun, takes aim, and then, a moment later, shoots. He clips the edge of the circle he drew. “See?”

Perry tilts his head. Other than Lars’s shot, the other two are right in the middle. “Maybe you’re not very good.”

Instead of getting annoyed with him, Lars looks like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “I’m actually very good. You’re … perfect.”

“Huh.”

Lars studies him. “How long did you say you’ve been practicing?”

“Umm …” Perry shrugs. “Arlie took me out for a few practices like the week before I shot St. Clare.”

At first, I think Lars’s wide eyes are reacting to the casual mention of my aural casualty, but his words don’t match my assumption. “Only a few weeks ? Never before that?”

“Nope.”

“Wow.”

Oh, good. Looks like we’ve moved on from caring that Perry shot me and I’m now missing an ear . So great we can be casual about it.

“Wait.” Lars presses his hand to his head like it hurts to think. “Were you always this good?”

“I mean, Arlie had to give me a few pointers initially, but yeah.”

“And you missed St. Clare?”

Perry shrugs. “And the two others before him.”

“And the guys who attacked you yesterday?”

“Accidentally got one of them in the foot.”

“But you didn’t hit the other?”

“Nope.”

Lars is thinking about something hard now. He paces over toward the fire, picks up a chunk of firewood, then throws it into the air. It goes high and arches over before starting to fall again. “Shoot it.”

Perry jumps to attention, his tongue poking out between his lips as he takes aim …

And hits the damn thing right before it reaches the ground.

Lars only stares at him.

“Sorry,” Perry says, shifting under Lars’s gaze. “I wasn’t ready.”

“You got it though.”

“Well, yeah. It was … I mean …”

“Have you ever shot a person?” Lars pushes, and I sigh.

“Don’t bring me back into this.”

Lars hurries to shake his head. “No, I mean have you ever killed someone?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Because it was your fucking job.”

Getting frustrated, Perry scrubs at his hair—still with his gun hand. “I wish people would stop pointing out what a failure I was.”

“You’re not following.” Lars steps closer. “You’re a perfect shot, and the only time you’ve missed is when it was a person you were aiming for. I don’t think you missed at all. I think you did it on purpose.”

I frown at Lars. “You think he shot my ear on purpose?”

“I didn’t,” Perry defends. At least, I assume he’s defending until he goes on. “I was aiming for his head.”

“That’s not actually better ,” I point out. “You know that’s not better, right?”

Lars doesn’t give him time to answer. “I think you thought you were aiming for his head, but subconsciously, you couldn’t do it.”

Great. If Lars is right, that means I have a security team of my best friend, who I don’t want in harm’s way, and a failed hitman who won’t hit anyone. This is looking better by the minute.

“You know, that might explain some things.”

Lars lets out a loud yawn that stretches his mouth wide. “Keep practicing. I didn’t get much sleep, so since you’re both awake, I’m going to have a quick nap. Wake me in an hour.”

He stalks back toward the cabin, still looking like he has the weight of all our plans pulling at him. Out of the three of us, he’s the only one with actual training for what we’re going through, so I know he feels the responsibility more than anyone.

“I think Lars is right.”

I turn toward Perry’s muttered words. His eyebrows are knotted together, and there’s something in the way he’s watching me that’s wary. “You didn’t want to kill me?”

After a moment of considering my question, he answers. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Seems like an incompatibility for your job description.”

“I, umm …” Perry’s dusty sneaker kicks at the dirt. “I got to meet you though. So it’s not all bad.”

A rush of nerves skitters through me, and I avoid Perry’s eyes as they search for mine. What is it that we’re doing? Having sex and passing time is what I want it to be, but there’s this tether between my gut and his smile so that every time he unleashes one, I drop. A sudden fall. Like the ground disappears and Perry is the only anchor I have left.

None of it is worth focusing on right now. “Can you teach me?” I point to the gun, hoping to distract.

He blinks in surprise, then glances down at the gun like he’s caught off guard to still be holding it. “Uh, yeah. You want to?”

“I figure it would probably help our situation.”

“Okay.” He’s nodding hard. “You can practice with mine.”

I cross dirt and crunchy leaves and tufty grass before I’m standing next to him. Perry hands over the gun. Heavier than I was expecting it to be and … wrong. I don’t know if the fit is wrong for my hand or if I can sense the danger I’m holding, but I don’t like it.

“Hold it up,” Perry tells me, so I do.

I’m definitely not holding it correctly, but it feels awkward.

“Both hands.”

I adjust so the gun is in front of me and not held out to the side. It feels a fraction more controllable like this, but then Perry steps up close behind me, arms wrapping over mine and mouth right by my good ear .

“So you sort of … aim. Like this. And then you need to expect the power rush when the bullet releases. I try to, like, channel it through my arms.”

“Through your arms?”

“Yeah. Release the safety, and then give it a try.”

His large hands rest over my wrists and the back of my hands, like he’s trying to hold me all in one piece. His voice is doing the opposite though. The way his smooth tone is breaking my strength apart needs to be studied. The skin by my ear, along my neck, it’s reacting to him in a big way, desperate to feel his touch. Aching for a brush of his scruffy jaw against it. To feel the scrape, the gentle press of lips …

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Your breathing went funny.”

Fuck. Concentrate. I’m desperately trying not to get hard, but it’s almost impossible with him pressed tightly against me, surrounding me with his warmth and his scent. Perry is too much of a temptation.

I remind myself to release the safety, then brace. One quick breath. Then squeeze.

The bang is loud and sharp, and I jump at the force of it. I definitely do not hit anything, and I’m not even sure which direction the bullet went in, and if Perry wasn’t holding on to me, I probably would have dropped the gun too.

His laughter tickles my throat. “At least you didn’t scream. I screamed the first time. And probably a few times after that.”

“You screamed?”

“Yep. Try again.”

This time, I know a bit more about what to expect, and I manage to shut Perry out for long enough to try. I don’t hit the tree they’ve been aiming for, but at least I think I come close.

“Better.”

I huff. “How am I supposed to concentrate at all right now?”

He chuckles, and proving he knows what he’s doing to me, Perry turns his head to run his nose over the hinge of my jaw. His breath ghosts torturously over my skin. “No idea what you mean.”

I groan, completely losing control of my cock that thickens at the contact. “Asshole.”

“Again,” he growls by my ear, hands tightening briefly over my wrists. “We’re not stopping until you hit it.”