I frowned at her message, not having a fucking clue what she was talking about.
Rachel: The shooting range. They said I needed to be a member. I said okay, sign me up. When they realised who I was, they wouldn’t let me in. They’re acting like I’m training to become a hit man to try and take you out or something.
Dante: They mentioned me specifically?
Rachel: They didn’t need to. They keep saying they’re not pissing off the Devil’s.
Dante: What do you want to shoot for?
Rachel: Does it matter? Will you just come here and sign me in, please?
Dante: Aw, Rachel. Are you asking for my help?
Rachel. No. Read between the lines. If you don’t come here and sign me in, I’m stealing one of the guns and shooting you in the dick. The choice is yours.
Dante: Damn. It’s always about the dick with you. You didn’t want to start with the kneecaps, no?
She sent me a picture of a gun in response, with a bunch of eggplant emojis over the top of it.
Dante: Message received loud and clear. Send me your location. I’ll be there soon.
“Well, gentlemen, I assume we’re done here? Give the girls the go ahead to do whatever the fuck they want with the decorations. Sunshine, Tools, you’re on hospital duty today. Do not take alcohol and weed. We’re on our last fucking warning. Pivot, you do the bricks, and everyone else, you know what your jobs are. Oh, and Hacksaw? Maybe you can man the fuck up and actually tell me what’s going on the next time I see you? Meeting adjourned.”
Chapter 69
Rachel
“So why did you want to come to the shooting range?” Dante asked after signing us both in. I raised one shoulder in response, still glaring daggers at the stupid cunt who hadn’t let me in to begin with.
Apparently it was all a mix up. When I left and returned to America, Riley was doing his job as peacemaker and had sent my photo around to every place he thought I could use to my advantage or to help me get revenge. Which included the shooting range.
Fucking moron. If I wanted to shoot Dante, I didn’t need to become a bloody military grade shooter. All I would need to do is seduce him, bullet to the head. Done.
I wasn’t here for Dante. I was here because the next time someone pointed a gun at me—or worse, at my kids—I wanted to be ready.
“Rachel?” Dante said, nudging my shoulder with his. “You’re grinding your teeth again. And please stop throwing that poor man death glares. He was just doing his job.”
“Whatever,” I snapped, rolling my eyes. “Can we just go in, please?”
“Um, excuse me,” the same man called over. “I’m going to need you to get that temper under control. I can't let you in if I can't trust you not to—” his words were cut off with a yelp as Dante sighed and pulled a gun from his back pocket.
“Listen, mate, if she was in any danger of losing her temper with you, you’d be dead long before now. She doesn’t need a gun. Now can you just…” he gestured to the door with the gun and the man scrambled to his feet to unlock it, stepping way out of the way so we could get past.
“Are you going to answer me now?” Dante said, slamming the door shut behind us without so much as a thank you to the worker.
“I was bored.” I wasn’t going to repeat Greg’s words to him. Because I knew Dante would react to them, and what Greg had said wasn’t wrong. In fact, it just reaffirmed what I already knew. I needed to take more notice of my surroundings, and I needed to be able to protect myself. Especially if I was out with the kids. When the Riders had attacked me and Shark, I had been lucky the kids hadn’t been with me. I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life relying on the good fortune of luck.
Luck was a fickle little bitch.
“You’re always bored. Last time you had nothing to do, you decided to knife every one of my pillows and stuff them with stink bombs.”
“That was Vienna’s idea…” I said with a small smirk. “And I just fancied a change of scene, that’s all.”
I walked over to the bench and grabbed a pair of ear defenders and goggles, and put them on, giving Dante a quick pose.
“Sexy,” he murmured.
“Good afternoon, folks. I’m your safety officer today—”
