Page 47 of Scorned

Next she pulled a glow-in-the-dark target out of her bag and hung it on a nearby tree. “I want each of you to practice throwing them at that target.”

Lyric went first with Peach correcting any mistakes she made. Even though we’d trained in throwing stakes, daggers, and knives, it had been a while since either of us had practiced. I went next and after a while, it seemed almost natural again.

“That’s enough. Let’s move on to shooting.” Peach dug in her bag and handed Lyric and I both ear plugs. After pulling out some water bottles, she lined them along the saw horses. I held up the lantern I was holding to get a better view.

“You know me and Lyric only have human vision, right? We won’t be able to see the targets to shoot them.”

Peach ignored me, instead screwing the lid off a bottle. She dropped something into it, replaced the lid, and gave it a shake causing the bottle to light up like a glow stick.

Lyric squealed. “That’s cool! I did something similar once for a science project.”

“Ravage showed me how to make them. He’s a genius with anything relating to science.” Once Peach finished making twelve bottles glow, she dug back in her bag and handed us each a gun. “I’m assuming you both remember how to use these.”

Lyric said nothing, instead turning toward the bottles and quickly shooting two before dropping the gun to her side with a smile. “I remember.”

“Good job, Lyric!” Peach took the lantern from me and nodded her head toward the targets. “Your turn.”

I raised the little Glock 43 and stared at it. “The last time I held a gun, I killed two people.”

Peach rested her hand on my arm, soothing me. “You did what you had to do just like they were doing. Life isn’t always fair and sometimes, we’re dealt sucky cards. It’s an evil game but someone has to be the dealer, and if you don’t keep playing the game, then you’ll never win a round.”

I let out a hard sigh before eyeballing the targets. The bloodshed I had caused was all I could see as I stared at them, and I shook my head.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“Marcus said if you don’t practice, then you can’t go on the mission.”

My head whipped back to Peach. “Are you serious?”

“And I agree with him. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re no good to anyone if you can’t protect yourself. It would cause a weakness to the group because someone would need to constantly watch your back. And what’s the purpose of saving Luka and Strike if multiple people die in the process? It’s not fair to value one life over another.”

Peach’s words settled in me, accelerating my breaths. She was one hundred percent right. If something happened to one of my friends because they helped me save the man I love and his brother, I would be in worse shape than I already was.

The fire inside of me flickered again, building higher. Without hesitation this time, I raised the gun and took aim. My instincts took over, my muscle memory doing the work for me when I quickly took out four targets.

“Wow. Great job,” Peach exclaimed. “I guess you really want to go on this mission.”

“No person or thing will stop me.” I looked down at the small 9mm gun. “Except maybe this. It’s not my normal style. Do you have anything else?”

“I like the 43. Do you want to trade for my 19?” Lyric held out her gun, and I shook my head.

“Do you prefer a 1911?” Peach asked. “I have a Kimber in the bag. Not Drag’s sister.” Peach grinned teasingly and Lyric giggled. I shook my head again. “I also have a Luger, another Glock, a Sig, a musket, and a Flintlock back at the cabin.”

“How old are you?” Lyric asked, and I laughed.

Peach ignored her. “Oh, I also have a Beretta.”

If I had been born a dog, or a wolven, my ears would have shot up. “Is it an M9? That’s what I normally use.”

“It is. It’s custom and has sights. It’s up to you if you want to use it.”

Lyric took the Glock I had, and Peach stuck the other back in the bag before pulling out the Beretta and handing it to me.

It was black with gorgeous walnut pistol grips that had the Beretta insignia, a larger circle with three arrows and three small circles inside of it, engraved into them, and had a custom slide.

The weight in my hand felt familiar, easing me. I practiced for a while, and truly began to feel like my old self, but hopefully a better version.

After we exhausted our targets, we headed home.

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