“Guess I should get myself a penis, then,” I reply, grinning at the look of horror on her face. I close the back door behind me and almost get attacked by one of mom’s shrubs. I can’t decide whether it’s overgrown or just a lethal weapon I’m pretty sure she could be arrested for.
One of the best things about living in a small town is the ability to shoot guns in your backyard. Okay, so I’m not positive it’s legal, per se, but like Mom said, the sheriff is a regular staple in our yard, and none of the other cops are gonna say a thing to him. I’m pretty sure most of the force has been here at some point or another.
Gio would have a fit if he knew that this happened.
“Nice shot,” I say appreciatively as Dad hits the center of the target.
He looks around, smiling. “Thanks. Joinin’ me?”
“Sure.” I hand him a bottle of water once he’s put his rifle down and he takes a long drink. “You got another target in the shed?”
“Human one. Just for you.” He smiles, walking into the brick building that’s really an outhouse but claimed by him for all of his things. Except the guns. They stay in the actual house. He sets up the target next to his and walks back. “There you go, Noelle.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” I bend and pull my gun from my boot. I’m gonna really miss this hiding spot when it gets too hot for my boots.
Dad chuckles and kisses the side of my head, making me smile. “Been a while since we did this,” he remarks when I put on my protection, then lock my arms in place, remove the safety, and shoot.
Straight to the head.
He waves to get my attention. “And I’m guessin’ you need a chat,” he finishes.
I shoot once more, in the shoulder, then again in the thigh before I replace the safety and set my gun on the table next to Dad’s. I hang the ear defenders around my neck. He picks his favorite Glock up, and I sigh.
“Can I ask your opinion?”
“Sure.”
I explain about Lena’s store. “Why would she do that? Take over the store and fire Penny?”
“Was Penny really instrumental to the day-to-day running?”
“I don’t know. That’s the thing.”
“Did Lena know about Ryan and Penny?”
“Yes. Apparently, she was okay with it.”
Dad pauses, relaxing without shooting, and sets his gun down in its case. “Maybe it’s not a case of Mallory doing it out of spite. Maybe Lena hired Penny and kept her on after the end of her contract as her assistant manager to keep an eye on her. Maybe Lena wasn’t as okay as she pretended to be.”
“Even though she was sleeping with Daniel?”
“Noelle, I’ve never met anyone with as many lives as Lena had. So yes. Even though she was sleepin’ with Daniel.” He rubs his chin. “You know what they say, honey. Keep your friends close…”
“And your enemies closer.” I finish the old saying and look out at the target I just shot at. “I guess. That makes total sense. I never really got the picture that they were friends with Penny. Lena and Mallory, that is.”
“Then Mallory has no reason to keep her on. Penny obviously isn’t a threat to her.”
“But she was to Lena?”
“She was sleeping with her husband.” He stands and raises his eyebrows. “Of course she was a threat. By all accounts, Daniel’s life wasn’t very stable. He still lived at home with his mom. He worked odd jobs. Ryan has a steady job, a nice apartment in a good area of town, and enough money for little vacations every couple of months. Which life would you rather live publicly?”
With that last question, he walks back to the house, his words ringing out in the silence.
The answer, of course, is easy.
I’d rather live the life married to Ryan. The stability his lifestyle provided meant Lena didn’t need to prop anybody up. They were independent within their relationship—literally. She made enough money to live alone—ignoring her debts—but not if she had Daniel needing her financially. Her marriage to Ryan stopped that avenue from opening up for her.
Smart, really. Deceitful and bullshit, but smart. I’ll give her that.
Gotta give her something, after all.
I take a deep breath and push off from the table I’m perching on, replacing my protective equipment I grab my gun once again and reload it, carrying it over to my human target. A few head shots always makes me feel better. I lock my arms and shoot. Shots ring out as I do my best to keep relaxed against the constant recoil of the gun.
When I’m done and I’ve shot every bullet in my baby into the head of the paper man several feet away, I drop my gun to my side and turn to the table to reload.
“Remind me never to let you stand in front of me with a gun pointed.”
I glance up, pushing the magazine back into the gun. “Remind me to put that on my bucket list.”
Drake’s lips twitch to one side as I reposition in front of the target. “You know, there ain’t much headspace left for you to shoot.”
“You want it to be your head I’m shooting at?”
“Can’t say I do.”
“Shut the fuck up, then.”
I ignore the buzz of his laughter through the air and aim. And shoot.
This time, when I’m done, there’s nearly straight line of bullet holes through my paper man. Including one where his cock should be.
The temptation to laugh is almost too much, especially when I turn and raise my eyebrows at Drake. “Why are you here?”
He pulls his ear defenders down. “Out here?”
“Here.” I yank off my ear defenders. “At my parents’ for family dinner. Out here, bugging me. Take your pick. I’ll take a reason for either.”
“Your nonna appears to have taken a real good likin’ to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s tryna set us up.”
“Clearly, she’s losin’ her mind,” I snap, reloading my gun again before tucking it back into my boot. I fold my arms and meet his eyes. “And out here? Why are you here?”
Nothing. Just silence. Just those goddamned beautiful eyes boring into mine.
“No? Okay.” I walk past him, pushing hair from my face.
“Don’t go out with him again.” His arm shoots out to stop me, and his words hit me hard. “Gio.”
“Since when has it been any of your business what I do?” I face him, narrowing my eyes as our gazes collide. “Last I checked, I’m a single, grown woman, and if I want to go out with someone, I will.”
“He’s not the kind of guy you need.”
“Neither are you,” I reply, running my eyes down his white shirt, which is untucked over his dark-blue jeans. The bottom of his shirt is gaping, allowing me a view of a triangle of tan skin with a smattering of dark hair. I linger there for a moment before pulling my gaze back up. “Yet here we are, having this conversation, you thinkin’ you know what’s best for me.”
“I don’t. But I know he ain’t it. He won’t get you, cupcake.”
“Screw your ‘cupcake,’” I whisper, my voice harsh. I shove his arm down and away from me, walking past him. “I don’t care if he gets me or not. Maybe I’m not supposed to be gotten. I’m not a fucking puzzle waiting to be figured out.”
“You say that,” he says to my back when I look away, “but you are. You just got a couple pieces missing.”
“Then it’s a damn good thing you aren’t my missing pieces, ain’t it?” The words are shot over my shoulder, and I swallow, my stomach twisting as I yank the back door open and every face of my family stares at me. “Sorry, Nonna,” I say to her. “But I gotta go.”
“Noelle?” Trent reaches for me, but I step out of his reach.
“I cannot be around him,” I explain—like that won’t bring a whole new barrage of questions. I ignore the worried look from Mom and dart out of the front door before I get commandeered into staying and explaining.
I slam my car door shut and rest my head against the steering wheel. My heart is thumping, and I wish I could say that I don’t know why. It’s beating scarily fast because I’m mad but thrilled. The feelings mix up into the kind of emotional tornado that rips through your veins without care.
And maybe that’s what he is.
Drake Nash is my tornado.
He’s roaring through my life, ripping apart my days without care or thought, obliterating any control I think I have and twisting it until I’m so out of control that all I can do is get caught up in his whirlwind.