He doesn’t answer, just continues that glare, making me sigh and face the direction I want to throw. I mimic the way Tanner shot the gun, inhaling first, concentrating on my target, then on the exhale…release. The dagger flies through the air and I’m almost hopeful, but it bounces right off the trunk and lands on the ground.
I liked it, though. More than firing a gun. I can totally do this. I’m about to become the badass of all badasses.
“Another.” If Tanner won’t use pleasantries, then neither will I. But I will learn from him. Everything he has to teach, even though I’m well aware of how wrong it all is.
The world fucked with me, turned my monotonous life up on its axis, so I’m throwing all the rules out of the window.
May as well go all in.
Chapter Thirteen
Tanner
Age 8
“Why do you call me Sweet Bee?” We’re sitting on the picnic table on the playground at school eating lunch. It’s the middle of September so it’s still nice outside. It’s just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich Mrs. Brigham made for me, but I’m so hungry I devour it in three bites. Last night, Mom forgot to make dinner and I was locked in my room for asking about it. I thought about kicking the door down but I did my homework instead.
“Your name starts with a B and you’re sweet.” Berkleigh loves to ask questions, and sometimes they’re kinda dumb. Why else would I call her that?
“Thank you. But is it the letter B or the buzzing bee?” I’ve got an apple at my lips, about to chomp down on it, when the question throws me off. Why would I call her a bee?
“It’s the letter.” This time, I do sink my teeth in the delicious red apple and moan at how sweet it is.
“Oh.”
I frown, then turn to look at Berkleigh, who is sitting right beside me. She gets picked on a lot by Taylor so she’s always close to me. Timmy learned his lesson, though.
“Why are you making that face?” Is she going to cry?
“I was hoping it was a bee. I like the idea of going from flower to flower and making honey.”
I shrug as I take another bite of the apple.
“Then it’ll be Sweet Bee, like the buzzing bee.” Problem solved.
I freeze when she leans in and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Tanner. You’re the best.”
She’s being a brat. All day I’ve had to rein myself in because I’m not sure whether I want to spank the respect back into her or fuck it right out. Maybe I’ll do both.
Tilting up my wrist, I look at my watch and decide we’ve got a little less than an hour before the chill falls over us. Even in the summer months, the evening shade brings with it a reminder that the cold temperatures from the Breakneck Ridge mixed with the water from the Hudson River creates a cover of humidity that seeps into the bones.
“One more set then we’re leaving.” I narrow my eyes at her as I speak, hoping she’ll check herself and not clap back.
“Why are you so bossy?” Like my drill sergeant used to always say, hope murders reality.
“If you think I’m being bossy now, then you don’t know the meaning of the word.” Making my way back to the tree trunk, I take down the used targets and freeze when I hear the crunching sound of leaves on the forest floor.
With the attitude Berkleigh’s been giving, I’m half expecting to see her walking on her bum ankle, ignoring my instructions, but my gut tells me something different. Crouching to the ground, I turn to Berkleigh, whose brows are like twin peaks of confusion, and bring my index finger to my lips.
When she puts her hand to her mouth and widens her eyes, I make a mental note to reward her for finally doing what I tell her without questioning me.
The crunch happens again, helping me discern a direction, and it’s south of her toward the river bank on the other side of our town. It’s the season where all kinds of wild animals come around looking for food or travelling back from a fresh drink or upstream fishing. We’re prepared for that.
What I’m not prepared for is any kind of law enforcement showing up. My military ID says I’m retired, and some of the grade A shit I’ve got out here isn’t exactly legal in the middle of the fucking woods. It could also be a couple of high school kids coming out to smoke weed or get laid. Same shit, though. My weapons can’t be seen. I mean, best case scenario, it’s some psycho and I can take him out.
May not go over very well with Berkleigh, no doubt.
Carefully and with the stealth of an F-22, I make my way back to Berkleigh. She hasn’t moved, her eyes following my every movement. There’s no reason for her to be afraid, at least not statistically. The odds of her finding herself in another dangerous situation is next to null. Still, I’m not taking any fucking chances.
