I time it pretty perfectly, passing Blake my cell phone and wait, unable to hear what’s being said. By the way his face pales, I’m not sure if I even want to.
“Of course, sir.” He hangs up and passes it back, pulling his keys off of his belt loop and freeing a ring of them. Eyeing me with distrust, he drops them in my hand, but keeps his mouth shut. Only when he gets to the door does he growl, “Anything turns up missing or busted, I’m not taking the heat for it.”
The door slams shut behind him and I quickly flip the lock before turning back to Grave, who has been unnervingly silent through the entire ordeal. He doesn’t say anything, just gestures for me to follow him through the door he’s holding open.
Hastily stuffing the keys in my jacket pocket, I cross the room, sliding past him through the doorway. Several firing lanes stretch out in front of us, divided by small walls with a counter in front of each. Beyond that, there’s simply a broom and a trash can in the corner, the rest of the space clear and empty.
“Shit, one sec.” He disappears, returning with a target, ear, and eye protection, swapping them for my gun case. “Put these on before you lose an eye; we’re security, not pirates.”
A teasing lilt is starting to creep into his tone that makes me have hope this morning is going down a better path now. “Is that what we’re calling ourselves now? Security?”
Setting my case on one of the counters, he hangs the target and holds a button as it slowly creeps away from us, stopping it mid-lane. “Better than some of the other things people call us.”
Though I know he’s likely referring to something like ‘sons of bitches’ when he’s carving into someone’s face, I can’t help but replay Blake’s reaction, along with everyone’s last night and notice the double meaning. “Speaking of name calling, you still haven’t told me yours.”
He opens up the case and gestures me over. “That doesn’t sound like me at all. You sure?” I shoot him a withering look that has him smirking. “You got in a car with someone when you didn’t even know his real name? How did you manage not to get kidnapped before I so valiantly rescued you?” he teases with mocking reproach.
“Apparently I was saving all of my bad life choices for when you came along.” Flipping open the lid on the box of bullets, I pay careful attention as he starts loading the magazine. “So you’re welcome, I guess.”
He bursts out laughing, and the last bit of the dark cloud clinging to him seems to dissipate. “It’s bad form to reveal your secret identity on camera, angel. Rule number one in the villain handbook; didn’t you study? Really now, and on finals week, no less.” He shakes his head in disappointment.
“First day of training was literally yesterday,” I object.
With a scoff, he picks up the handgun. “Every day of your life is a test now, Elyse. People watching you, seeing that you’re somehow caught up with us, knowing what sort of people we are. Life and death pop quiz, starting the second you open your eyes.” He stares at my face as he pauses, more stoic than I’m used to seeing on the eccentric man. “We can teach you to swim, but it’s up to you if you swim away or let the sharks eat you.”
I open my mouth to have him explain what he’s talking about, but he cuts me off, rattling off instructions quickly and giving me no choice but to listen or look like an idiot in two seconds. He runs through the mechanics of all of the parts, slides the magazine in place, and locks the slide back before passing it my way.
Grave taps a hand against my hip before sliding his palm over my thigh, prompting my legs into a better stance. Pressing against my back, he guides my arms as we lift the gun in tandem until I’m posed exactly how he wants me.
He licks the shell of my ear before whispering, “There we go, line up the shot. Make sure to keep a firm grip; perfect, just like that.”
He makes sure my fingers are in the right position before stepping away and I exhale slowly, finding that calm in the center of the storm. No hammering hearts, no fear; just cold calculation.
It’s louder than I anticipated and I woefully underestimated the recoil. Still, I managed not to drop the gun, and at least clipped the edge of the paper. Grave is back a moment later, gently pushing my arms to the side a bit as he steps in front of me, like he isn’t afraid about the very real possibility that I might shoot him by accident.
His teeth gently clamp around the side of my neck, nipping at my flesh before kissing the sting away. “Keep your eyes open, angel. If you’re going to kill someone, have the decency to look them in the face as they die.”
Even though it makes my stomach churn with nerves, I know he’s right. But as much as I would love to put a bullet in my father’s head, I can picture exactly how it would go. My anxiety forcing my limbs to tremble, the cold sweat of fear, knowing if I missed my one chance, he’d rip the gun away from me easily, drawing out my suffering for daring to try.
I shut my eyes, trying to shake off the phantom unease that feels all too real. And when I open them, I force the images away, reminding myself that isn’t my life anymore.
“Only shoot if I mean to kill them. I could mean it to be a warning shot, but if I miss, I need to be prepared for the fallout.” I pause, narrowing my eyes at him. “That mean when you shot Everett you were perfectly fine if he ended up dying?”
He pulls himself up to his full height, grinning down at me with bright blue eyes full of mirth that don’t match his words. “Angel, I’m prepared for everyone to die. All but you.”
My heart clenches, knowing if I’m forced to leave like Maverick thinks, Grave’s going to take it the hardest. No matter my gentle reminders that it could happen, pretending I still have a hope of walking away from all of this in a few years, he either actively doesn’t believe me, or is willing to deny it until the time comes.
With the way things seem to be improving with Julian, I might be able to actually stay, though. He’s not going to let me leave easily when the debt is repaid, anyway, and it was foolish of me to ever think otherwise when we made the deal. It will turn into a case of enduring things so long as they’re bearable, but inevitably when shit hits the fan, I’ll be forced to bolt; whether that’s a month from now or ten years. But I have no illusions that if I can’t keep in his graces, Julian will torture me to death simply to prove a point. Or more likely, the sadist will force Grave to do it in order to flex the level of control he has over us all. And I have a strong feeling that would break this man in a way nothing else has been able to.
Despite my incessant denials to myself, I care about him enough to try and spare him that, might even be starting to fall in love with the psycho. He’s been tortured enough in his life, he doesn’t need me rubbing salt in his wounds, too. There are no happily ever afters, not for people like us. The best we can do is take the shitty hand we’ve been dealt and try to hold onto those brief moments of happiness for as long as possible, even if it’s only as a memory.
“Let’s try again,” I reply instead, because telling him any of that is selfish and cruel. “It’s just weird knowing Julian’s likely watching the camera and laughing as he realizes we weren’t exaggerating about my ineptitude.”
“Yeah, probably.” A feral grin lights up his face. “I have an idea.” Removing his jacket, he heads over to the security camera in the corner, jumping and gripping where it mounts to the wall. He dangles one handed while using his other to wrap the jacket around the lens. “No need to be so nervous now-“ he drops to his feet and prowls closer, trailing a finger over the back of my neck before murmuring in my ear “-but you might want to keep your voice down unless you want him to hear you.”
With a flourish, he steps away, leaving me to center myself again. This time I’m prepared for how it feels, can anticipate things better. Keeping my eyes open, I push all of my chaotic feelings away and fire off four shots in rapid succession, my attention rapt on the target in front of me.
Grave whistles low, plucking the gun from my hand and surprises the hell out of me by pressing a quick, hard kiss to my lips. “You’re a natural. An angel of vengeance.” He pulls back just as abruptly, eyeing me head to toe before snapping his fingers. “Take off your pants.”
