Chapter 3
Fucked and Fucked Over
“Stop!” I blare, and Grayson yields his wild, rapid shooting.
“What now?” he gripes.
“You need to strive for quality more than quantity. This isn’t the wild west. You barely passed the first test, and you have to ace this one in order to be anything more than security. I thought you said you could shoot,” I groan.
“I can. You didn’t ask me if I could aim. I was ten when I ran away, so I’m a little rusty.”
Fuck.
“Let me take over for a little while,” Hale interjects, and I grip my head before plopping down.
“They’ll test him tonight. Unless your gift is suddenly granting someone perfect aim, he’s fucked,” I grouse.
“I happen to have insider trading on what the course will look like tonight. He just has to rehearse it. You can make him good later.”
“By all means,” I snark while motioning for him to take over.
Four fucking days, and he still can’t hit a target fifteen feet away. Rehearsing isn’t going to help a bit.
I walk over to the dark-eyed Angelica sitting by herself while staring at the ground. Her lips pucker as she stares into the mirror across from her, and I sit down while trying to think of something to say.
“The blue will come back. This is just temporary. Are you ready to try to summon your gift? It’s important to find out what you can do as soon as possible, and it’s fairly easy to let it fly during your first few days of transformation.”
“I’ve been trying, but I can’t pull anything out. Maybe you were wrong about me being gifted,” she grumbles.
“I’m not wrong. We don’t have to do anything right away. You’ve still got a few weeks before you’re required to go through what Grayson is.”
“Yeah. That sounds great,” she murmurs distractedly. “Is my dad still here?”
“I think he’s about to leave. Were you wanting to speak to him?” I muse.
“No. I already spoke to him. I was just wondering if he had left yet. I’m going to grab something to drink. You want?”
“I’m fine, but thanks.”
I stare at her back while she walks away, and my lips purse as I try to assess why she seems so off. Clay comes to sit down beside me, and he takes my hand in his.
“Are you sure you can handle him? He’s too strong for his own damn good, and he’s too arrogant to listen to anyone,” he mumbles.
“He listens to me. I just hope he doesn’t end up opening car doors instead of getting utilized.”
Clay chuckles lightly as Hale grips his aching head in frustration for Grayson’s lack of focus.
“I happen to have a little pull with the commander, so I might be able to sway the scores a bit if you promise to work with him intensely.”
I let a smirk escape upon hearing his sardonic joke.
“I promise, Commander Jude.”
He laughs a little, and then he releases my hand before standing up. I take advantage of my moment alone with him.
“What’s Hale hiding from me? Why is it he loved me completely one minute, and now he acts as though he’s struggling to be in the same room with me? I can’t tell if he misses me or hates me. I just want to know what happened.”
Clay’s eyes cut away as he very deliberately avoids my interrogative hybrid blues.
