Page 24 of Shattered Love

We ate our soup in silence, able to scrounge up a few spoons from one of the kitchen drawers. Once we finished, Murphy found a knife and together we etched a map of the camp from my memory on the wooden slates of the floor.

Now we sat crisscross on the floor, debating our next move. And so far, we couldn’t seem to agree on anything.

“You said there was a gap in the fence here that Aiden and the twins snuck out of.” Murphy tapped the knife against the back of the drawing. “That’s the best way to sneak in without being caught.”

Groaning, I tried to explain again. “They probably have guards everywhere now. Plus, I’m sure they reinforced the gates after we escaped.”

He didn’t understand that Vex was, first and foremost, a vengeful man. Our escape was a hit to his pride more than the absence of any information I may have had.

“That’s all a guess. You don’t actually know they did any of that,” Murphy argued, and I threw my hands up in the air.

“But I do know! I know the man in charge of that camp. You need to trust me on this.”

Murphy was silent for a while, scanning the map as if a new answer would suddenly come to mind. Finally, he sighed, flipping the knife between his fingers.

“I do trust you, Alessia. But we can’t just go in there, guns blazing. I may be a good shot, but nowhere near as good as Rainer. And one against however many? The odds are not in our favor.”

I knew he was right. I had seen Rainer take on three at once and walk away unscathed. Murphy could hold his own, but not when he was constantly looking over his shoulder, worried about me. Gulping, I realized what I had to do. Even if I never wanted to.

“Then you’ll teach me how to shoot a gun. Two weapons are better than one.”

Murphy’s eyes widened. I hadn’t been vocal about my distaste for guns, but it had been obvious. Whenever the weapons were around, I refused to grab them. Part of it was the fact I had never held one before, I didn’t want to mess up and cause an accident. But the bigger reason, the reason I had been avoiding, was I didn’t want to be responsible for taking a life.

Working in healthcare, I saved people, I didn’t kill them. But the desperation I had avoided was now inside of me. It was us or them. And every moment I was given the chance, I would choose us.

As the thought swirled in my head, I realized I was starting to understand Emmanuel’s decision. But in this case, he was the them. And damn him for hurting us.

“That could take time,” Murphy said, his voice hesitant.

“We don’t have time. As long as I know how to pull the trigger, I can work on my aim as we go.”

Murphy nodded in understanding, dropping the knife to the ground and standing to his feet. I followed him, watching as he grabbed a gun and a box of ammo from the bag. Together, we stepped outside into the silence.

And after a quick rundown of safety measures and the anatomy of the gun, the weapon was placed into my hand. The weight was heavy in my hand and in my heart, because I knew before this was all over, I’d have blood on my hands. And the worst part was, the thought didn’t bother me as much as it should.

Chapter Thirteen

Three days passed. Murphy and I ran out of food. And each day we spent hours in the open space behind the house, practicing my shooting ability.

After the first day, I learned all the different parts of the gun. I knew how to flick the safety off, how to hold the gun to prevent excessive recoil, and how to pull the trigger. The only thing I was severely lacking was the ability to aim.

“Look through the sight. Make sure your target is in your eyesight,” Murphy instructed from beside me, tilting the gun in my hand until he was content with my position.

“Alright, take your shot.” He backed away a few steps, giving me plenty of space.

Flicking the safety off, I took a deep breath, looking down the barrel of the gun and then squeezing the trigger beneath my finger. The shot ran throughout the space, echoing in my ears. I steadied my body, prepared for the recoil.

But even with all the preparation, a shiver still ran up my spine. Murphy promised it would eventually get easier, that I would feel more comfortable wielding the weapon, but I wasn’t so sure about that. Especially once there were actual targets, not the empty soup cans sat on pieces of wood.

The bullet missed the cans, landing somewhere in the woods behind. Unfortunately, I hadn’t even had one lucky shot. It was quite impressive how I had managed to miss every single mark.

“That one was closer,” Murphy said, planting his hands on my shoulders once I clicked the safety back on.

Leaning back into his chest, I closed my eyes. “Not close enough.”

The truth was, each day we trained, each day we waited, the others could be getting tortured. Or worse, they could already be dead.

Dropping the gun to the ground, I spun around in Murphy’s arms, his hands sliding down my back and resting on my hips. It was now a familiar position. Whenever our hands were free, we found ourselves in this embrace, stealing comfort from each other.

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