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She sits on my lap. “I’m going back to Pennsylvania. I’m sorry, Rowan. But I have to do it,” she says.
My heart drops.
“But first, I’m fixing this shit with you. The Hunters tried to rape and kill me days ago. I’m not going to let them get away with that. They can’t win this battle.”
“Well, alright,” Iago says. “It’s settled then. Let’s teach this woman how to shoot.”
I take her hand. “You’re leaving?”
She tenses and looks down. “Can we talk about this later?”
I exhale sharply. “Fine.”
She grabs four bottles and walks outside, hips rocking back and forth. This time, the sight brings me melancholy.
I thought I had someone. Was I wrong?
She sets the bottles on the wood barrier of the compound and walks back toward the kitchen.
Iago runs inside to warn the guys that they might hear some loud gunshots. She takes aim and fires six bullets.
Two out of four bottles crash open.
“Not bad,” I remark. Really, she’s not a bad shot.
“I’ve been hunting with my dad and his friends before. It’s been a while, but it’s like riding a bike, right?”
Jeffco laughs. “This woman is full of surprises, ain’t she?” he asks.
“Yeah. Lots of surprises,” I say.
“Shouldn’t have been much of a surprise,” she says.
“News flash, sweetheart. Not everyone is a mind reader,” I mutter.
She groans. “I’m not done shooting,” she says, firmly.
I walk toward the fridge. “Guess we’ll have to drink more and set up some bottles,” I say.
I take a whole 18-pack and bring it outside, feeling the cold tips of the bottles scrape against my fingers.
She grabs them in a hurry and sets them up. As soon as she’s back in place, she takes aim.
Like an idiot, I come up behind her before she can pull the trigger, placing my hands around her waist. “Whoa there. Take a second before shooting,” I say. “Feel the moment.”
She drops her stance and glances at me angrily. “Am I going to have a second when I’m out there, and a guy has a rifle pointed at my face?” she asks. “Am I going to have a second if I get shot in the leg?”
“Well—” I start to speak, but she’s on a roll of interruptions now.
“Am I going to have a second if they’ve surrounded us in an enclosure?” she asks.
“I guess not, but—”
“Exactly. I won’t have that luxury. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to take the damn shot,” she says.
“Aha!” Iago shouts. “Strength. I love it.”
She pulls the trigger, and the bullets crash into the bottles. This time, they all shatter.
