9
MARGARET
“IT’S HEAVIER THAN I thought.”
“That’s what she said.”
I look up to see a smirk across Dan—er, Liam’s lips and roll my eyes at his joke. “That’s immature.”
The smirk stays in place. “Then why are you smiling?”
“Now’s not the time for Michael Scott humor.” I let the lie pass through my lips—it’s always time for a Michael Scott joke.
“Come on, that show is a classic.” I quirk an eyebrow at his remark. “What? There’s a surprising amount of downtime in my line of work.” He gives me one of his killer grins, and I try to rein in the tingling that shoots down my spine at the sight.
I clear my throat and straighten up, pointing the gun at the wall. Mike has a man cave in the basement of their house, and it’s also where he keeps his guns, along with a large TV and a setup that looks like it belongs in the office of S.T.A.R. Labs. It’s seriously geeky down here.
We head outside, where I get the chance to fire the gun a few times. Before I do that, though, Liam makes me put on his sunglasses. I highly doubt I’ll have time for eye protection if I get in a situation where I have to actually use this thing, but I don’t say a word to try to stave off another argument.
I aim at the pop can he set far off into the field. The neighborhood they live in is small, and according to Mike, no one cares if you use this field for anything.
“Okay, just breathe out a long breath, keep your eye on your target, and pull.” Liam’s voice is hushed and he stands behind my right shoulder. I try not to feel intimidated that he’s watching me shoot for the first time.
I pull the trigger and the gun rocks me back a step. I look at the can, and it hasn’t moved an inch. Groaning, I turn my head to Liam, keeping the gun facing forward. “I missed.” My voice is pouty, and he smirks before he nods at the can again.
“Yeah, well, it was only your first try. Give it another go.”
I follow his instructions and keep shooting until the magazine is empty. I thought that’d be the hardest part, but then he makes me reload it, and pushing the bullets into it is more difficult than anything I’ve done yet. It takes me an embarrassingly long time.
“You’ll get better with practice,” Liam says, and he shows me two more magazines he pulled out of the backpack we’ve been carrying. “But that’s why I keep several guns loaded at the same time, and you will too. There’s no time to load in the middle of a situation. Just push the release like I taught you and reload. I want you to do it now.”
I follow his previous instructions, releasing the mag, letting it fall to the ground, and shoving another one in, quickly aiming at the can and letting off another few rounds. It’s such a weird sensation, and my adrenaline is definitely coursing through my veins.
I’m surprised by how much I love shooting the gun. It’s actually kind of fun.
“I think you’ve got the basics down. In the event you ever have to fire it, just remember not to hesitate. Even if you think you might not be in danger, consider that, in this situation, you’re always in danger.” He’s so close to me now, and his voice is rough.
“That doesn’t sound healthy.”
“Healthy or not, it might just save your life someday.”
I nod at his serious look. He’s taking this training thing seriously, and I have a need to impress him coursing through me. It’s climbing as steadily as the urge to do something else with him, but I have a feeling our time for that is long past, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true.
Our eyes hold steady and his hand reaches for me, coming in contact with the gun and brushing his finger over the back of my thumb. That small, seemingly insignificant touch leaves me reeling, wanting more, and I can’t help the goose bumps that scatter across my arms.
“Hey, Mo!” Jen’s voice breaks through our tension and we both blink, the moment over. Liam turns away from me and starts reloading the magazine on the gun. I should do it, but I’m almost afraid to get too close to him. Instead, I turn my attention to Jen coming over to where we’re standing in the field.
It’s best I don’t let my emotions get involved with the hot FBI agent. Too late, says the little voice in my head. I tell it to go suck a lemon.
“I got the stuff for your hair,” she says when she reaches us. The saint that she is, she offered to help me make the fire on my head look more human, and I immediately took her up on it. “We should get started before dinner.”
“Are we good, you think?” I look to Liam and feel like I’m seeking his approval. For what, I’m not sure yet.
“Yeah, go,” he says, dismissing me with a wave of his hand.
I nod and follow after her, leaving Liam to his surly thoughts. He’s been standoffish ever since we got to Mike’s this morning, but I don’t know if it’s just having to have real human interactions or something else completely.
I sit in the chair Jen has set up just off the kitchen. As it turns out, she’s a great person who doesn’t care that we’re in some sort of trouble; she immediately just wanted to help us out. That’s not something you come across very often, and it’s a wonderful change of pace.