MacKenzie Fire(15)

“You shot me! You f*cking shot me!” He’s screaming so loud, Henry comes in from the store.

My heart stops beating as I try to figure out if he’s just messing with me. Shouldn’t there be blood if I shot him?

“What happened?!” Henry yells, looking at the gun on the floor and then Ian.

“Oh, he’s being ridiculous,” I say, praying I’m right. Did I really shoot him? I don’t see any blood. There’s nothing but him acting like a human pogo stick. Boing! Boing! Boing! He’s pretty cranky too. I don’t think he’s faking that part.

“She shot me!” Ian says, pointing at me. He stops jumping around and stands on two feet, now gesturing to his lower leg. “See?!”

There’s a hole in the material near his ankle. When he lifts his pant leg, there’s a dark red mark on his skin, but no blood.

“Looks like you got grazed,” says Henry. He looks up at me. “How’d you manage that?” Then he looks out at the target. “Nice shot by the way.”

I look over my shoulder and see that I’ve nailed the target almost exactly in the center. I can’t help but grin like a fool. “Check me out.”

Ian’s voice goes up an octave. “You’re standing there all proud of yourself after you shot me?”

I look back at him, feeling loads better that there’s no blood and that I haven’t just killed my best friend’s brother-in-law. I’m a little dizzy with the relief, actually. But I don’t want him to know that.

“Hey, it was an accident, okay? I’m sorry I grazed you with a bullet. Geez.” I roll my eyes. “What a baby.”

He stands there staring at me with his jaw open. Then he laughs, but he doesn’t sound very happy. “You’re nuts, you know that? You’re dangerous. You need to just stay the hell away from me.”

“Oh, believe me, I plan to.” I ignore the sting of rejection. He’s a Bambi killer anyway. What do I care if he wants me to stay away?

“No, I’m serious. Stay far away. I’m too young to die.”

“Oh, please, stop being so dramatic. Besides, I already told you that you’re not my type and I have no interest, so just stay out of my way.”

“Hoo-hoo-hooo,” Henry chuckles, “y’all got some issues. When’s the wedding?”

“Shut up, Henry,” Ian growls. “You’re not funny. And you know what? You can keep your bow, too. I gotta go home and ice my leg.” Ian storms out of the practice room with an exaggerated limp, and I assume he leaves the store since I can’t hear him whining anymore.

“So, you like the gun?” Henry asks, a hint of a smile still on his face.

“Heck yeah, I like the gun. I hit a target and Ian MacKenzie with it already. I’d say it’s a keeper.”

Henry laughs until he’s beet red in the face. His belly jiggles around like a bowl of Jell-O. It’s both gross and fascinating at the same time. I can’t stop staring.

“I’ll just go start the paperwork. Feel free to shoot some more rounds if you like. Just watch the kickback next time.”

“Yeah, good advice.” I pick the gun up off the ground. This time when I point it at the target it doesn’t feel as heavy or as foreign.

“That’s right, lions,” I say mostly to myself as I raise it up and stare down the barrel. “Come at me now.”

I empty the clip, scoring more hits in the center ring, and then go back into the store to do the background check stuff. I am so going to be a badass with this baby on my hip and my new purple boots. Ian MacKenzie better just stay out of my way.





Chapter Six





I’M JUST LEAVING THE STORE when I find Andie walking down the sidewalk headed right for me. Busted.

Dammit. I have to think up a good lie, quick. The heavy gun and a box of bullets are in my purse, and if she even touches my bag she’ll know they’re in there.

“What in the heck are you doing?” she asks.

I’m all innocence. I could totally work for the CIA as a super spy the way I can hide my emotions. “Who me? Nothing.” I hold out a leg for her to admire. “Just scored me some gorgeous Sorel boots. Check me out.” The big box that holds her fugly boots bangs against my hip and the cheap plastic bag crinkles. I’m surprised it hasn’t broken through already leaving my packaging to get soggy in the slush that covers the sidewalk.

“I got a text from Mack. He said you shot his brother.” She looks up at the storefront we’re standing in front of. “You didn’t really shoot him, did you?”

I frown, acting like she’s crazy. “Don’t look so worried. Of course I didn’t shoot him. I merely grazed him. Big difference.” Hooking my arm through hers, I lead her down the sidewalk. The smell of greasy fried something is calling to me and I need to distract her from this line of questioning. I feel guilty enough as it is; I don’t need to add causing pregnant lady stress on top of it. “Come on. Someone is spelling my name out in strips of bacon right now.”

Andie puts on the brakes, and when she does it with all that weight behind her, it’s very effective. I almost go down, even with the awesome tread on my new boots. I struggle to right myself. I really hate ice. It’s impossible to look graceful or cool on the stuff.