Page 118 of Breathe Like Hell

He essentially did it to me first.

A little smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Mason was grumbling some bullshit under his breath behind me. It seemed he only liked the plan when it wasn’t supported by his mortal enemy.

“Give me your gun,” I said as I spun around. Mason pulled it out of the waistband of his pants and handed it to me, the metal warm from where it’d been against his body. “Now go a little further away.”

He listened to me, tugging off his shirt as he walked up the beach, exposing the large scars framing his spine. Then he turned to face me, feet at shoulder-width and hands clasped behind him. The same giddiness from before flooded my veins.

No safety.

“Can you help me hold it?” I asked Micah, who stepped right up behind me, his body surrounding mine, hands layering over my own on the grip of the gun.

“Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll give you some ear protection.”

Mason was rolling his eyes at the sight of Micah helping me aim the gun straight at him, and I giggled a bit.

“Ready.”

The moment the word left my mouth, all my hearing disappeared, the world going quiet. I focused on my aim, trying to line up the front sight with the center of his bare chest. If I thought too much about it, I was going to freak myself out, so I tried not to.

I remembered him fucking me with a gun to my head, remembered the way I was begging him to stop, sobbing below him as he refused to listen to me. That gun wasn’t loaded. He’d been trying to give me the most realistic version of my fantasy, which required fully convincing me I was about to die. It was one of my most intense memories, conjuring up visceral sensations whenever I brought it into the front of my brain.

The gun is loaded now.

Aim for the heart.

These bullets were made of equal parts hate and love.

I put my finger on the trigger, inhaling slowly.

Then, I pulled.

Three times.

The world was suddenly loud again and Mason was shouting. “Oh, what the fuck?! Three?!”

He dramatically flopped onto his back. My bones were vibrating.

I stared up at Micah with wide eyes, seeking out his approval, or something.

“Good job. Next time do four.”

I grinned as he started walking over to where Mason was groaning on the sand.

“Take them out. Now,” he ordered, his voice agonized.

“I’m fucking going to once you stop rolling around,” Micah snapped.

Watching would make me lightheaded, so I turned to stare out at the waves, ignoring the sounds of Micah removing three bullets from Mason’s torso. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually hit his heart or not, but I hoped so. After only a minute, Micah walked down to the water to rinse all the blood and ichor off his hands, then returned to stand by my side.

“Did I hit his heart?” I questioned.

“Yeah. Twice.”

“Is he okay?”

“Am I okay?” Mason’s voice teased from right behind me. I spun around into his arms, staring up at his smiling face. “Yeah. I’m okay. You’re a hell of a shot, baby.”

“Or I’m just lucky.”