Page 152 of Shrapnel

The furry wrap slipped down her tanned shoulders as she waggled her jewelry laden fingers at the camera. His guns padded stock butted up against his shoulder as he wiggled blood into his fingers.

A bald man dipped and weaved in his scope. He let his eyes go unfocused. The shapes and colors blurred together until they solidified on the woman’s head. The sharp edge of her haircut brushed against her jaw.

The bipod jerked when he squeezed the trigger, jolting the entire weapon system against his shoulder. At this distance, the sound carried around the buildings in an unsettling way. Echoes of the gunshot reached his ears at different times.

Ian dropped the binoculars and grabbed Jamie by the back of the collar, jerking him to his frozen feet. He stumbled into the big man, squawking when he was bodily picked up and carried out of the open construction site.

He wasn’t put down until they hit the stairs. Descending, he began dismantling the gun as they went. Ian handed him the canvas bag and he stuffed the components into the bag one at a time. By the time they reached the bottom the gun was in pieces and the bag was back in Ian’s possession. Weirdly, he didn’t trust Jamie.

Their stolen car was parked in the alley. Ian slid behind the driver’s side and only waited for Jamie to have one foot in the door before he gunned it, merging into a turn lane that would take them to the highway.

“Driving a little sus there, Lassie,” Jamie cracked as he adjusted the heater.

Ian squeezed the wheel like he wanted it to be Jamie’s head. Which was fine. At least Jamie could feel something besides the bone crushing emptiness when his head was ringing in pain.

Between the loneliness, guilt, and physical pain, he’d choose Ian’s right hook every time.

“You missed!”

Dominic didn’t even wait for Jamie to step out of the car before he was screaming. Jamie stretched. He had been crammed into three different cars for the better part of three hours with a broodingly silent Ian.

“What?”

Ian slapped him on the back of the head hard enough that he fell to his knees. The shifting sands gave way and he fell right to his face. Jamie didn’t bother to get up.

Dominic crossed his arms, staring slightly off to the left of Jamie. He didn’t need to look to know his lips were doing that angry curl. Like he had smelled something distasteful. He did that a lot around Jamie.

“You fucking missed,” he hissed. “How could you miss?”

Jamie pulled himself up to his knees and sat back on his feet. He anticipated the hit before the words left his mouth.

“You could take the shot next time.”

Ian’s boot hurt worse than his fist. The fucker loved his steel toes. Like there were people out there willing to stand on his goddamn toes. The air punched out of Jamie’s lungs, and he fell to the sand. His back spasmed, ache and pain blooming across his entire body as he tried to force himself to breathe. Had Ian hit him in the kidneys? Where even were his kidneys?

“Do you have any idea how much money this client paid us? All you had to do was kill one bitch. Just one! How could you miss?”

Jamie couldn’t answer. The sand dug into his cheek as he tried not to breathe any in. He managed to get his knees to his chest, breathing shallowly.

“Just a….mistake…”

“Is that what the Weavers taught you? Mistakes?” Dominic sneered from his higher vantage point, metaphorically looking down his nose at Jamie. For a blind guy he did that really well.

Ian kicked him again. Waves of excruciating pain rolled over him. He gasped, turning to the sand. Grit in his mouth was better than Ian’s boot in his stomach.

Another kick and Jamie remembered where his kidneys were. He’d be pissing blood for a week.

Nausea roiled in his stomach and spit dribbled down his chin. He wouldn’t puke. Not yet. He had some dignity left. Ian fisted his hair and jerked his head up. Everything hurt and he couldn’t help the whine that escaped.

“You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation,” Dominic said from very far away.

“We need these contracts. These contracts will give us the money to take back Renard’s territory. If you start missing, word will spread.”

We. Us.

Jamie didn’t remember agreeing to any of this. He hadn’t seen any of the money and he wasn’t allowed to ask questions about these contracts that ‘they’ needed so badly.

His breath rattled audibly. “I can’t—” he hacked, tears building under his lids with the pain. “I can’t guarantee every shot…”