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When they spot our tent, one of them—the commander, I assume—signals the others to get into position. His hand in the air, he counts to three before they open fire on our tent where they think we are sleeping. When they are done, the commander gives them another sign and they move to check if they actually killed us.
I give Raf a nod, knowing what I need to do.
Three people come towards the tent, while another three remain behind.
Just as one of them rips the covering of our tent apart, I cock my gun and I aim, blowing his brains. The next few seconds are critical as the noise from my bullet alerts the others to our presence. Without losing my calm, I move to the other side, aiming for the other three while Raf is already tackling the two people at the tent.
I don’t need to look to know he can handle himself perfectly. If there’s anything I trust, it’s that in the time we were apart, Raf worked as hard as he could to become the best version of himself. And he did.
He’s stronger and faster than the average soldier. But he has something none of them have—something to fight for.
While Raf is handling the two men, I take a deep breath before I start firing all three bullets in a quick succession. I manage to hit all three in critical spots before I remember I should have kept one alive.
Oh, well… Maybe Raf remembered to do that.
A few more shots resound in the air, and as I head back to our tent, I smile as I find Raf holding onto one of the men while the other is dead on the floor.
“My wife is a crackshot, isn’t that right?” He whistles proudly.
I shrug.
“Sometimes it comes handy to be born in the mob.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining. You’re so hot when you shoot.”
“Am I now?” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.
At the same time, the man decides to writhe in pain, and I groan out loud.
“Really? Couldn’t you see that we had a moment here?” I motion between me and Raf in a serious voice.
The man opens his mouth to say something, but it mostly comes out as gibberish.
“Did you hit him too hard?” I frown.
“I don’t think so?” Raf says, turning to the man. “Did I hit you too hard?”
More gibberish.
“I think you hit him too hard,” I sigh.
“Damn.” He shakes his head. “And here I thought I did so well.”
“You did,” I say as I stop by his side, patting him on the shoulder and giving the man a pitying gaze. “Maybe a touch too well.”
Raf turns to me and we both smile.
“That means we won’t get information,” he clarifies.
“Oh, I know.”
“You’re not mad?” He blinks.
“Why would I be? I killed one guy I was supposed tonotkill, and you incapacitated another. I’d say we’re pretty even.”
“Oh, ok.” He nods thoughtfully. “Why are you staring at me like that then?”
“Because you’re handsome,” I murmur, getting on the tips of my toes to lay a kiss on his lips.
