Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Everything all right?” I asked. “Which sister?”
He nodded and picked up some items that had been lying on the floor. “MJ. She’s my twin. She’s decided to stay in Hobie and take a few days off to take care of Neckie. You know Neckie, the owner of Twist?”
“Yeah, I know Neckie. Is it her pregnancy?”
“I guess her blood pressure is giving her trouble, so they’ve got her on bed rest. MJ’s worried.”
“Are they good friends?” I asked, wondering how that worked when MJ was one of the Wildes who lived in Dallas.
Saint’s lips widened into a grin. “My grandfather set them up last weekend. Turns out they’ve both had a crush on each other since middle school. You should have seen the two of them blushing at each other at my grandparents’ house last night. No wonder poor Neckie’s BP is high.”
“I can imagine finally getting together with someone you really like and not being able to jump their bones.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze.
Saint’s eyebrows furrowed, and I scrambled to take back my words.
“I… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He stepped closer and cupped my jaw. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”
Before I could say anything other than a whimper, two people popped their head into the room, causing us to jump apart.
“We’re out of here. Lock up behind yourself, Wilde.” The man speaking was someone I didn’t recognize, but he had a very military look about him, which indicated he worked there. The second person was a woman dressed in a black business suit and wearing an earwig. I assumed she was one of the bodyguards on staff and had come from or was going to an assignment.
“Will do,” Saint called. He turned to me. “What the hell time is it?”
I shrugged since my phone was with my clothes in my locker. Saint grabbed his and cursed. “I didn’t realize it was already after five. Should we do a little more and then get a bite to eat?”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, let’s work.”
We stood and made our way to the center of the mat. When he reached out his hand to give me one of the items he was holding, I realized it was a gun. I almost dropped it on the floor.
“What the fuck?” I cried, bobbling it in my hand until I could get a firm grip on it.
Saint’s eyes bugged out, and he started to laugh. “Easy, killer. It’s not loaded.”
“Shit,” I snapped. “You could have fucking warned me you were handing me a weapon.”
His large warm hand came down on my shoulder as his other hand took the gun out of my own.
“Augie, this is a prop. It’s fake. Well, not fake exactly, but a pellet gun used for recreation. See the orange tip? We use them as dummy weapons sometimes for practice. I promise it’s not going to bite you.”
I realized my hands were shaking, and I felt cold. “I hate guns.”
Those gorgeous eyes studied me as his hand squeezed my shoulder gently. “I can see that,” he said gently. “I think maybe we should hold off on the instruction and have a conversation about that first.”
“It’s not necessary,” I assured him with a shake of my head. I had no need to be seen as the coward around him yet again. I didn’t want to lose whatever shred of dignity I might still have in his eyes by revealing just how much of a baby I was. “Let’s continue.”
I reached forward and took the gun out of his hands before looking up at him. If he had any care at all for me, he would let me do this without first having to have a conversation about my feelings. I’d had enough of feeling vulnerable lately to last a lifetime.
Saint hesitated before stepping back. “Okay. Let’s begin. Hold the muzzle against my forehead.”
I tilted my head, wondering if I’d heard him right. “What? Why?”
“So I can demonstrate how to get out of the position,” he explained. “You’ll be surprised at how simple this move is. Here, go ahead.” He nodded at the weapon in my hand.
I followed his gaze to the gun before looking back up at him. Nerves knotted in my gut. I had to keep reminding myself that it was fake.
“How do I check to make sure it’s empty?” I heard myself ask. My mental voice sounded like it was being spoken through sludge in an echo chamber.
“That’s a great question. It never hurts to triple-check.” Saint took the gun from me and opened it to show me there was nothing in it. When he handed it back to me, he stood ready for me, arms at his sides.
At that point, my whole face was numb, and I could barely even feel my hands anymore. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d heard the gun slap to the ground on the mat at my feet. I tried raising it, keeping it pointed at the wall to our right instead of at Saint.