CHAPTER 36
HONOR
Take aim, take the shot, no hesitation, no regrets.
My mind reels. How did I get here? Entangled with a man who makes my heart race and my skin tingle from just a look? I slide the dress back on and glance at him over my shoulder as he tugs on his jeans. He’s a lot of man to handle, but I know why he’s managed to break through every barrier I’ve erected. Most people wear a mask—they alter their persona based on their company and what they need from the situation. It’s a form of manipulation I can’t tolerate, and one of the reasons Samuel never had a chance with me. He was trying to be who he thought I wanted. Perhaps if he’d just been himself…nope, still a no.
Fox, however, while a little on the grumpy and dominating side, doesn’t hide who he is. That appeals to me and is maybe why I’m drawn to him. But the future he dangles in front of me is seductive, one where I’m not looking over my shoulder every moment. He makes me feel safe, which is something I haven’t felt in a very long time.
He bends and rummages around in his backpack before retrieving a gun. My blood runs cold, and I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
He shakes his head at my reaction. “You need to learn how to shoot straight, firecracker, so if you ever need to protect yourself, you won’t miss.” He hands me a box of ammunition and jerks his head at the trees.
“But that’s not my gun,” I point out.
“No, your gun is difficult to aim for a beginner. I swapped it out for something more user friendly.”
“How thoughtful,” I mutter as I follow him a little way into the woods.
He pauses and turns to face me. “Let’s go through some basics.” He talks me through the safety catch, and how to load and unload a gun. “Never ever point a gun unless you’re prepared to use it.”
“I think I’ve demonstrated I have no issue using it.” I give a pointed look at the mark on his shoulder, making him snort.
“If there’s time and distance to run, do so. That should always be your first choice. Only stand your ground if you absolutely have to.”
My heart flip-flops in my chest. If Gideon catches up with me, I won’t be running. I will take the opportunity to shoot him. I still regret not twisting that knife back at the motel.
He hands me the gun, and I keep it pointed at the ground like a good girl. He grasps my shoulders from behind and turns me to face a tree ten feet away. “See the knot in the trunk?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“That’s approximately where most adult torsos would be. The aim here is not to get fancy. The chest is the biggest area to aim for and will stop them from coming at you.”
“Got it.”
“Okay. Take aim, but don’t shoot. I’ll correct your form.”
I raise the gun in my right hand and squint at the tree. Fox’s fingers trail down my left side, and he grasps my hand and guides it up to the gun. “Always use two hands. It will help you aim better and you’ll get less kickback from the shot.” He curls my fingers around the grip and nudges my feet apart slightly. “To help your balance.” Lastly, he alters the position of my shoulders. “Deep breath in, and on the exhale, take the shot.”
My eyes flutter closed as I inhale for two heartbeats, then snap open before I squeeze the trigger. The shot skims the bark, sending shards flying into the air. My body presses back against Fox’s. “Shit,” I mutter.
Fox drops to his knees behind me and grabs my left foot. He inches it forward, then places his hand on the base of my spine. “Again.”
I take a deep breath, take aim, and squeeze the trigger as I let it out. The bullet lodges in the tree. “I did it,” I whisper in awe.
“You did, and I’m so proud. Now do it again.” I lick my lips and manage another four bullets in the trunk. “Reload,” he says, holding the box of ammunition up to me from his position on the ground. I reload the bullets with shaky fingers. “Good. Six shots in the tree, and I will count this lesson as a win.”
“Do I get a prize?” I wonder as I take aim.
“Perhaps.” I empty the gun into the tree and resist doing a happy dance. “Reload, then let’s take it a few paces back.”
I follow his direction until we are positioned fifteen feet away. He drops to his knees behind me again and keeps a steady hand on the base of my spine as I take aim. I miss the first two shots, but the third finds its mark.
“Of course, in an emergency situation, you will have distractions to contend with,” he mutters as his fingers circle myankle and draw lazy patterns up my calf. My breathing stutters, and I miss the next shot.
“Fox,” I utter as sparks of desire dance down my spine.
“Shoot the tree, Cleo.”
