Page 58 of Anton

Daddy would be so disappointed. He always hated that I was never interested in guns like my siblings. While they were out shooting anything they could, I was tending to the animals.

“Don’t do that.” Anton turns me to face him, his arm sliding across my back as he draws me against him. “Don’t pity yourself. It helps no one. Focus on the tree. Picture someone you hate. Someone you wish you could kill with your bare hands.”

I want to tell him there’s no one, that I’m not a monster who fantasizes about such things. But it would be a lie, because when I face the tree again, his face is the one I see.

Tucker Hargrove.

My throat goes dry as that night comes rushing back. His weight pinning me down. His touch on my thighs. The panic flooding my chest when I realized I couldn’t get him off me.

“He can’t hurt you anymore.” Anton closes the distance between us, the warmth of him drawing me back to the present.

But he can’t, because he wasn’t there. I was.

When I aim again, Tucker’s face fills my mind. His fist connecting with my stomach when I tried to fight him off. That vicious grin telling me he believed he could take whatever he wanted from me.

My finger stiffens on the trigger. Then I fire.

Bark splinters from the side of the trunk, and I stare at the mark with my heart pounding.

I did it. I actually did it.

“That’s good.” Anton leans down, his mouth brushing my neck before he presses a soft kiss there. “Now do it again.”

Heat rushes through me at the tenderness in his voice, and moments like this make it impossible not to see the real Anton under everything he tries to bury.

I raise the gun again, and the next shot lands nearer the center of the trunk.

“Again.”

I fire, then keep going. Each bullet strikes closer to the mark, and with every blast, the knot beneath my ribs loosens, leaving more of that night behind in these woods where it belongs.

The last shot hits dead center, and the weight I’ve carried for so long breaks apart. A shaky laugh escapes me, filling me with relief as I turn toward Anton with the gun pointed safely at the ground.

“So…” I plant a hand on my hip. “What do you think? Did I do okay?”

He takes the gun from me, his fingers closing around it as he keeps the barrel angled away, engages the safety, and tucks it back into his waistband. “I’m just happy we won’t be sleeping here. I have a feeling you snore.”

A laugh breaks out. “I’ll have you know, I do not.”

“Mm-hmm. I don’t believe you.”

“You’re shameless.” I wind my arm around his back, tugging him closer. “You just don’t want to admit I did awesome, do you?”

His mouth slightly tips up. “Do you want a standing ovation?”

I shrug, giving him my sweetest smile. “Maybe. Or how about a kiss? On the cheek, of course. You know, for my stellar performance.”

His fingers curl along my jaw, and the teasing smile slips from my face when his attention perches on my mouth.

He looks at me like he wants to throw me up against the tree and fuck me. His thumb traces my lower lip, pulling a rough breath from me as my thighs pinch together and the image takes hold.

“Kissing you on the cheek is the last thing I’m thinking about.”

Every part of me comes alive. “What are you thinking about, then?”

A low chuckle leaves him, deep and rough enough to send a shiver through me. “Things you don’t want to know.”

“I do want to know.”