Chapter 35
Fallon
Rhys takes the bag of ornaments from me and carries it to his car, careful like they’re full of grenades. With heated seats and warmth from the vents, we drive in cozy comfort. City lights smear in the windows, I’m so lost in thought. I expect I’ll see our building come up in the windshield.
He plans to show me what a boyfriend wants from a girlfriend.
Instead, we head south. Industrial streets swallow the holiday glow, the colors changing from red and green to burnt steel. My pulse jumps when Rhys turns into the garage of a squat concrete building with a faded sign: Gotham Gun Range.
“A gun range?” My assassin boyfriend’s idea of fun is shooting up paper targets?
Or maybe it’s more than that. The feel of power in his hand. The rush of the kick back. The loud, powerful clap of the bullet discharge.
“I’ve been a member here since I moved to New York.” Rhys kills the engine, and the energy buzzes between us. “This is where I come when I need to clear my head. Of everything.”
That causes a strange sensation to vibrate in my chest. Not fear. Something dark and sultry. We’re not just spending time together, smiling in public. He’s cracked open a secret door to his world and is letting me peek inside.
We take an industrial outdoor staircase to the building’s main level.
Inside, the sounds of gunfire echo against concrete and steel.
Fluorescent lights hum overhead. The air smells like metal, cold stone, and faint gun powder.
Rhys seems taller here. And my skirt suddenly feels too short for the male eyes in this place.
My candy-cane tights are a loud splash of merriment against all the serious gray walls.
I only want Rhys’s eyes on me, and I only want to brighten his world.
He signs us in, and I flinch when he writes my full name.
Fallon Nova.
I start a quick spiral, wondering how he knows my last name. Then I remember he saw all my pills. And we’ve been neighbors for years. He could have heard it from anywhere.
Calming down, I let Rhys steer me up another set of stairs and into a private room.
“I pay extra for this.” He removes several guns from a steel case he had tucked under one arm and starts feeding them bullets he purchased at the registration desk. “I can’t have an enemy land in the lane next to me with nothing to stop him from putting a bullet in my skull.”
“No!” I gasp.
He gives me an assuring smile. “That won’t happen, love.”
“How many people have you killed?” I ask casually.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just gets the guns ready, checking the slide and crank.
“Rhys?”
“I’m counting in my head.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Aye.” He laughs, “But I served in the military. Did land tours and other ops for the Irish government. Plus, my cousin Griffin didn’t have an easy time taking over the Mob. We had to put a few dogs down.”
“You killed a dog!” My throat tightens. This could be a dealbreaker.
His eyes go wide, and he pulls me in. “Love, sorry, no. It’s just an expression. Dogs mean bad people. I’ve never killed a woman or a child, or a real dog.”
“Oh.” I swallow and push my head against his chest.
His heart is pounding like mine.
“I’ve done some good things too,” he says, bringing our eyes together. “I helped my cousin Shane find his cat. And six years ago, I saved a kid with autism after a mass shooting at a place called Leinster House in Ireland. He was stuck hiding from the terrorists.”
Beneath his calm voice, I hear a small hint of how he struggled with these sad events.
“You’re a hero,” I say, my heart swelling.
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “What I did today to Vin felt the most rewarding.”
He slips little disposable plugs into my ears and fastens goggles over my eyes, then does the same for himself.
“Watch.” Rhys lifts a black pistol so elegantly, I go still.
He aims the gun at a target way back in the firing lane. His first shot splits the air like a crack of thunder. I flinch, but Rhys doesn’t even blink.
I lose count of the shots that follow. But he’s already dropping a magazine and sexily adding another.
I shamefully watch the thing being shoved into the handle, and there is that damn wetness between my legs again. This isn’t a place to be distracted by those thoughts.
Bam Bam Bam Bam…
Reload.
Bam Bam Bam Bam…
Each movement flows into the next, seamless and sure. His focus is terrifying and beautiful. It’s like watching a panther circle its prey. Then attack.
When the last clip empties, he flicks the safety on and sets it down. Glancing back at me with a calm expression and a glint in his eyes, he purrs, “Your turn.”
My throat goes dry. “I… I don’t know how.”
“That’s why we’re here.” He gestures me forward.
My heart pounds as I step into his lane. He stands behind me. Close. But it no longer feels too close. Rhys’s body against mine feels a little wicked, but perfect.
“Feet apart.” His hands skim down my arms, adjusting my elbows, guiding my fingers around the grip of the weapon. “Anchor yourself.” His body heat wraps around me, steady and grounding.
My pulse thunders so loud I barely hear him.
“Breathe.” His warm lips graze my ear. “Steady, love. You got this. Show me.”
Calling me love melts through me like molten sugar, even if the gun feels ice cold in my hands. That changes when both his hands cover mine. His skin is hot, solid, and unshakably in control.
“See the target in the scope?” he asks, playing with my hair. Playing with me.
“Yeah?” My knees wobble as I lift the gun.
“It’s more mental than physical ability. Look back and forth between the scope and the naked eye. Your brain will calculate the angle and your arms will adjust.”
“Should I be picturing someone?” I ask.
Rhys goes still. “Not unless you want to. Are you…picturing someone? It better not be me.”
“No,” I scoff.
But I perform the ritual he mentioned, and on my last gaze into the scope, I see Kosta’s big head and small dick after he raped me.
Die, you bastard. I inhale. Hold. And squeeze the trigger.
The recoil jolts up my arms. The shot unfortunately goes wide, not even close to the target.
Rhys growls low, “Again.”
“But…”
He shakes the box of bullets. “That’s why these are sold by the carton and produced by the metric ton. Not every shot lands.”
I fire the beautiful gun over and over. Each time Rhys’s voice sounds a little softer, each adjustment of his hands lingers a little longer.
I stop hearing the sharp cracks of the blast, stop seeing the sterile concrete walls close in on me.
There’s only Rhys’s voice, his warmth pressed along my back, and the clean scent of him cutting through the smell of gunpowder.
I really wish I was shooting Kosta.
“Focus on your breath, not the fear of the recoil or the noise,” Rhys murmurs. “Fear makes you shake. Breath makes you steady.”
I breathe him in. Finally…
Bang.
The bullet punches through the air and lands dead center in the target.
“I hit it!” My voice breaks on the words, and I whirl to look at my boyfriend.
Pride flickers in his eyes, and it hits me harder than the recoil.
“Of course you did.” His knuckle brushes my cheekbone while his gaze drags down to my mouth.
Heat twists low in my belly as his sharp smile devastates me.
Rhys reloads and lets me finish off another clip. By the last shot, my hands are steady. But his jaw is tight, and his eyes are darker than before. He’s watching me like he’s imagining other ways to put his hands on me.
When I step out of the lane, my adrenaline still sizzles.
“That’s enough for today.” Rhys takes the pistol from me and stores it in the steel carry case, satisfaction buzzing off him.
I watch his fingers, long and precise. He handles everything about me with extraordinary care. I wonder how his hands would feel in my panties. Nothing between us. No rules. No restraint.
“I want to take you home.” He whistles for an attendant to store the steel case for him.
Next, we’re outside, a zing of cold air slicing into my overheated skin. My head is still spinning.
“Did you have a good time?” I say, my breath puffing white plumes from my lips.
Rhys glances down at me, his mouth crooked with a smile. “Immensely.”
We walk to the car, shoulders brushing. His fingers find mine, and the spark is undeniable. I slide into the passenger seat, my thighs pressed together and my mind humming with excitement.
Rhys turns to me and says, “I know what kind of fun I want to have next.”