“Whoever accused you of being that?”
Wrath ignored me as he lined up his next shot. This one coming up high and right. “Goddammit!”
I stepped forward, trying my hardest to remember everything Taxi had taught me back at Quantico. When I first showed up for training I was terrified of guns. I didn’t even want to touch one, but Taxi was an excellent teacher and he made sure I felt comfortable and safe before we ever even went to the firing range. Before I knew it, I was looking forward to time on the range, and soon enough, I was one of the highest ranked marksmen on the team. Of course, I was nowhere near his star pupil, Trouble. She rode with the Burning Saints out of Portland and had become Taxi’s protégé. She was not only excellent at short range shooting but nearly a master behind the scope of a sniper’s rifle.
I fired my third and final shot, my heart sinking when I only saw two holes in my target.
“Swing and a miss,” Wrath said, before stepping up to take his final shot. He fired, missing the bullseye by three inches at least, but at least he hit the target.
“Hot damn!” Wrath said, celebrating his victory.
“Hold on, brother,” Sundance said. “Not so fast.”
“What are you talking about? I scored forty points, and after her miss, she’s at fifteen.”
“She never missed,” Sundance said.
“Of course she did. There are only two holes in her target.”
“Nope,” Sundance said, handing my target to Wrath. “Here’s her first shot, worth ten points. Andhere are her second and third shots, each worth twenty-five a piece.” Sundance pointed at a large, irregular shaped hole near the center of the target.
“Are you telling me—?”
“Her third shot went through the hole from her second shot, giving her sixty points.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Wrath breathed out, facing me, his face ashen. “I wasn’t even close.”
“You were so,” I countered.
“Baby, I wasn’t. Not where it counted.”
I bit my lip, my heart in my stomach. “How do you feel about that?”
“Conflicted.” He slid his hand to my neck and stroked my pulse. “On the one hand, I’m so fuckin’ proud of you that you are, in fact, a badass bitch who can shoot that well. On the other hand, it means I have to let you go, should this op happen, and I have no fuckin’ say in the matter.”
I smiled. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s get married.”
I held up my left hand. “We’re already engaged.”
“No. Now. Before anything bad happens.” He pulled me closer. “Make it official now in case shit goes down.”
“You really want to do that?”
“Yeah. How about you?”
“Oh my god, yes,” I breathed out.
“Okay, you find the officiant, pick a dress, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’ll take care of the rest?”
“What? You don’t trust me to take care of the rest?”
I raised my hands in surrender. “All good here.When do you want to do it?”
“Ten days.”