A lethal edge transforms Cain’s face. “Handguns. Then rifles. Fair fight.”
Rev’s smile slips, revealing the cold killer beneath. “Whatever, cowboy.”
Lifting his right pistol, Rev lands a shot between the target’s eyes. He does the same with his left pistol. Back and forth he alternates firing, hitting the same exact spot. My jaw drops in awe of his perfect aim with the seemingly lazy way he’s shooting.
I watch Cain’s confident movements as he steps up to the firing line in another bay. He repeats the pattern. Six shots with his right hand. Then he reloads and shoots the same gun with his left. His body is so fluid, his shots faster than I can even process.
Imagining Cain in action outside of an office setting, dressed in black tactical gear, has me practically drooling. I want to see that so bad.
Rev moves from target to target, and I snap my ear protection off to hear them bickering.
“How is it you fucked up your last mission so badly, but you have near-perfect aim? You lying to me about being in meetings all day?” Rev asks, anger laced in his words.
“What, you think I’m sneaking off and dropping criminals in secrecy?”
Rev shrugs. “Wouldn’t put it past you. Ezra, come determine the winner, please.”
I rush over to study both targets, amazed by the consistent, clean pattern on both pieces of paper. “I really can’t tell. I think it’s a tie.”
Rev growls, pretending to melt into the floor. “This is fucking bullshit. Pistols aremything.”
“Weapons, in general, are both of our thing. Now pick up that rifle,” Cain demands with an unsettling grin that makes a shiver run down my spine. I’ve never wanted the weight of his body on me more.
Rev does as he says, and I perch on the table again, securing my ear protection. The targets are moved back to the seventy-five feet marker. Rev takes his time, lining up his shot through the scope. He fires several times before moving aside for Cain to take position.
Cain unloads his magazine, and once again I’m ordered to the firing line to determine the winner. Before I can even push the words out, Rev mumbles, “Fucking ex-Special Forces bastard.”
My brows lift as I look over at Cain, soaking in his lethal body. I knew he was in the military, but Special Forces? What had Cain been exposed to during his service? Probably doesn’t make for easy small talk.
Rev drops his gun on the table and jabs a finger at my chest. “I expect to see you in the gym tomorrow during lunch.”
Shrinking under his unhinged intensity, I nod. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Rev strides out of the room, and Cain retrieves his suit jacket. “Not sure how late I’ll be this evening. Order in food, if you want. My credit card’s on the kitchen table.”
He leaves me then, too. Ok, so he’s still hot and cold. I really shouldn’t have expected anything more.
Sighing, I check the wall clock. Three hours to kill and a seemingly endless supply of ammunition at my disposal. Maybe this night is salvageable.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CAIN
The crack of a gun lurches me upright in bed. Instinct has me grabbing for my own weapon tucked in the drawer of my nightstand. My other hand reaches for Ezra and finds a cold, empty pillow.
No.
“Ezra?” I shout, ripping the sheets off the bed, willing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once they do, I spot him curled up near the end of the bed. Air whooshes from my lungs.
Ezra sits up, blinking and rubbing a hand through his mess of hair. “What’s wrong?”
His hazel eyes meet mine, widening when they drop to the gun clutched in my hand.
Coated in a sheen of icy sweat, I’m still panting, though the wave of terror has receded.
“Fuck,” I utter, ruffling my hair. “Just a dream.”
His shocked eyes move from the gun back up to my face.
