AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her breath was shaking, just a tiny bit. “What are we shooting?”
“Just cardboard. The targets are backed with half-inch steel. The bullets won’t go through.”
“What if I miss?”
“Shooting this way, we’re almost a mile from the nearest house,” he said. “Besides, we’re only twenty feet from the target. You’ll hit it. Just hold on to the gun. There’s a kick to it.”
“I’m scared I’m going to shoot myself.”
“Come on. I mean, if anyone should be scared here, it’s me.”
She gave him a look, and he smiled. “Here. I’ll shoot first.” He took the pistol and aimed. “Put your hand on my wrist. You’ll feel it.”
As soon as her fingers closed around his wrist, Hunter almost couldn’t focus. He was acutely aware of her closeness, of the scent of mangoes and cut grass and summer corn. He took a deep breath. It didn’t help.
“What’s with the bracelets?” she said, her thumb brushing one of the strands of twine wrapped around his wrist. Her touch was making him crazy.
“Just rocks,” he said.
“Very New Age.”
“My mom’s into that stuff,” he said. It was a half-truth. His mother was into rocks and charms and talismans, but the difference between the crap she sold in town and the rocks on his wrist were that his rocks actually did help him focus power.
Really, it was a miracle he could even remember to keep it a secret.
Focus. “Ready?”
She nodded. He pulled the trigger.
The sound was near deafening. She flinched hard, but didn’t let go of his wrist. Her fingers were trembling against his skin.
“You all right?” he said. His ears felt thick. He probably should have thought to bring earmuffs.
“Yeah,” she said. Her breathing sounded too quick, but she glanced up at him. “I want to try.”
He showed her how to hold the weapon again, how to look down the sight to find the target. “Don’t do it halfway,” he said. “My dad always says commit to the target.”
Her grip tightened, but she didn’t pull the trigger.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said.
Her eyes were narrow, staring down the line on the barrel. “Do you ever wish you could just shoot them?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “When I’m in the moment.” He hesitated. “I don’t think I could do it, though. We can talk about bullets and safeties and target practice all day, but the bottom line is that guns are made to kill people. It’s stupid to forget that.”
“And you don’t want to kill them.”
“Not for a bloody nose, no.” He paused again. “I don’t know what it would take.”
“I do.” She pulled the trigger.
He wasn’t ready for it, and it made him jump a mile.
“I did it!” She had a huge smile on her face, and he grabbed her wrist before she turned toward him again.
“Downrange,” he said, breathless. “Not at me.”
Her eyes were shining up at him. “Take the gun.”
