I don't wait for a response. I step out of his arms, missing the heat immediately, and move to the firing line. I look at the paper target fifty feet away and anchor my feet into the concrete.
Pop.
The recoil jolts through my arms, but I’m used to it.
Pop-pop.
The empty casings hit the floor with a clink.
Pop.
I exhale, watching the small cloud of smoke drift away. I don't lower the gun until the slide locks back. I flick the safety on with my thumb without even looking. I look at the target. Four holes. Three are grouped tightly in the center of the forehead. The fourth is right in the throat.
I turn back to Damiano, who hasn't moved an inch. He’s standing there with his arms at his sides, staring at the target like he’s meeting me for the first time. The shock on his face is satisfying.
"Where did you learn to do that?" he asks. His voice is low, stripped of all that arrogance. I give him a small, bitter smile.
"Mateo didn't teach me to wave at cameras. He started training me when I was fourteen. It was our choice of bonding activity.” I walk over to him and hold the gun out. "He told methat if I was going to be a strong, independent woman, I had to learn how to kill anyone who tried to make me a victim."
Damiano takes the gun, his fingers brushing mine.
"Mateo taught you all this?"
"Everything," I whisper, leaning in until he’s inches from my face.
"He taught me how to strip a gun and how to hit a moving target. He taught me everything he could to protect myself. But he didn't teach me how to avoid falling in love with a mobster. One that treats me like I’m so fragile but has no qualms killing anyone else."
I pull away and walk toward the elevator. I can feel him staring at me, his gaze heavy and intense.
"You can stop treating me like I’m made of glass now, Damiano," I say over my shoulder.
"I’ve been broken before, but I’m still here. If we are going to find out who was behind this, you’re going to have to treat me like a partner." I say as I watch him stare as if he wants to say something more, but couldn’t. When the elevator doors began to close, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when he didn’t follow me.
Then, just before the doors close, his hand forces them back open. He reaches out for me, his movements fast and hungry. He pulls me out of the elevator and pins me against the cold concrete wall, his body a familiar weight against mine.
"You just made me look like an idiot in my own shooting range," he murmurs, his lips almost brushing mine. "I think I deserve a reward for surviving that."
“That’s not my fault.” I grin.
Then he puts a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Not made of glass, huh?” He repeats my words to me.
“Uh-huh…”
“Should we test it?” He tilts his head to the right, his eyes hungrily skating through my features.
I smile.
Chapter 25
Damiano
The softness of her body pushing against me is the only thing keeping me anchored to the real world.
One day.
I spent one day avoiding her—one day of staring at the security monitors just to catch a glimpse of her wandering around my house—and it nearly drove meinsane.
