Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(46)

“If you even think of touching me—I’ll bite it off.” I warn him as I slide to the ground.

“Okay,” Pugh says before we can continue our fight. “Highest score wins.” He reviews the course with Mark, and because I’ve lost my vision, my hearing is heightened.

I listen to everything I can. Standing, prone, kneeling, and then back to standing. I at least know the first four obstacles. If for some reason we tie, the fastest time will be the breaker.

“Ready?” Pugh asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Mark affirms, and I can imagine his face. That smug smile, the side eyes on me, before he runs his fingers through his hair.

Shooting is a high. Shooting ignites you with a power that you can’t explain. The thrill of handling something so deadly with so much precision.

I hear the gunfire pop off fast. The bullets bang as they hit the metal targets one after the other. Bing, bing, bing. After a few more seconds, all goes quiet. I’m practically bouncing in my skin.

The sound of their boots crunching grows closer. “Ready, princess?”

So, we’re back to that nickname. I pull the fabric from my eyes as his face comes into view and toss it at him. His eyes are alight with joy. I can see how much fun it was for him. The enjoyment oozes from his entire face.

“Only thing I’m ready to do is hand you the tissues.”

“Tissues?”

“For all the crying you’re about to do.” I jump up and pat his cheek.

His head falls back as he laughs. “God, how much I love you—” He locks his gaze with mine “Talking shit to me.” He tries to play it off as though he was finishing a sentence.

There’s that awkward moment between us, but I laugh it off. “Good thing I’m really good at it.”

I turn away and dispel a heavy breath. There’s no way he loves me. It was only a slip. A stupid slip, like when you accidentally say it hanging up the phone. Instinct. That’s it.

“Happy shooting!” he says to my back.

I turn and glare. “Put the blindfold on, vampire boy.”

“I already shot.”

“I don’t want you to see how I do!”

“I can’t get an advantage.”

I stalk forward, rip the blindfold from his hand, and tie it on. “You also can’t distract me this way. Now sit down, shut up, and be a good little boy.”

“You’ll pay for that.”

“I’m so sure.” I roll my eyes and prepare to kick his pompous ass.

Pugh explains the course, same as he did for Mark. We get back, I crack my neck and find my center.

Here we go.

I fly through the course, hitting my mark better than I could’ve imagined. I don’t concentrate on the bet, the targets, or anything except me and my breathing. Everyone presumes the key to shooting is aiming, but it’s actually about timing your breaths. That’s what’s instrumental in making sure you don’t pull the round. When you’re at that perfect release, you can hit anything effortlessly. So I time myself, counting my in and out. I shoot better than I have in a long time. His ass is grass.

Once we’re done, Pugh tallies my score. If Mark beat me, it’ll be by a hair.

“Feeling confident?” Mark asks. He wraps his arm around my waist. I swear he’s always touching me.

“Did I mention I won a target competition at age ten?” I boast. I haven’t mentioned a word of it.

“Okay.” Pugh gives his hands a loud clap. “Ready to hear who won?”

“Sorry, Charlie.” Mark says stretching his arms overhead. “I’m so ready to know what to scream out tonight.”

I slap his unprotected stomach. “Let’s hear it.”

Pugh looks at his paper. “Okay. The winner is . . .”





“I knew it!” I dance around, shaking my ass as I do a little jig. “Ha!” I say in Mark’s face as I continue my taunting. “I win. I win. I win, I win, I win.”

“There is no f*cking way.” Mark grabs the paper from him and looks it over. “By that much?”

“The targets are there. You can count for yourself,” Pugh offers.

“Oh, the things you will do!” I practically squeal.

Mark growls as he stomps off to check the course.

He returns with a scowl. Clearly, I won. He couldn’t even lie to himself. This is a glorious day. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper to the sky.

“There need to be boundaries to this,” Mark grumbles.

This is going to be so much fun. I mean, he said he would do anything. Stupid, overconfident man. “This is what happens when men like you get cocky. You say words like anything and always. It bites you in the ass, but I’ll be more than happy to take advantage of this.”

He saddles up next to me in his Jeep. “Will you do your ass shaking dance again?”

“For you,” I grin, and lean back. “Maybe.”

“Don’t drown in your victory.”

“Don’t worry about me. I would start preparing for the Day of Charlie.”

“You’re naming your day?”

I huff. “Of course. Now to decide when to cash it in.”

“I’m sure it’ll be the most inconvenient of days.”