Page 89 of Wolf.e

“Oh my god, I shot you,” I cry out, feeling like I’m going into shock. The bullet landed in the tree behind him and the skin of his bicep is torn open in a sickening way. It’s already bleeding profusely.

“What have I told you? Never drop your gun. Holster it or set it down!” he growls.

That’s what he’s worried about right now?

Gabriel inspects the wound, his jaw set before turning back to me. I wait as he reaches down and calmly tears a clean strip off the bottom of my t-shirt, wrapping it around his arm expertly as he secures it before looking at me. His breathing is calm and even, like he doesn’t even care I could’ve just killed him. I do a little dance of wanting to cover his wound with my hands and not touching it. I finally just drop them to my sides, willing my breathing to calm down.

“Does it hurt? I knew I shouldn’t have tried that. I don’t need a gun. I could’ve killed you. Oh my god,” I cry, tears filling my eyes.

Gabriel looks down at me, gripping both sides of my face, the only expression of pain he shows is a slight jaw tick as he raises his wounded arm to hold me.

“While I’m happy to see how much you care about me, little bird, calm down. It barely grazed me. I’ve had way worse,” he adds, kissing me. “Now, go back over there and this time, hit the fucking target.”

“What?” I squeal. “No way, not a goddamn chance.”

Gabriel reaches up with his left hand and brings it down to my ass cheek. Hard. Did he just fucking spank me?

He’s never done that when we weren’t in the middle of or about to have sex, and I’m not sure if it pisses me off or turns me on. Probably both.

“Take a fucking breath,” he growls. “Don’t make me tell you twice, Brinley. You have to rise above that fear. Focus.”

And then his lips are on mine, forcing my mouth open his tongue slips inside and chases my own. The adrenaline from turning over this power to me mingles with my fear. I melt into him and I can’t control the tears welling up in my eyes. Somewhere over the last six weeks, I’ve grown attached to him, more attached to him than I’ve admitted even to myself. Gabriel nips and sucks my tongue into his mouth, searching every part as if this is the last kiss he’ll ever give me, and hell, maybe it is, because I know I have no choice.

Gabriel won’t let me chicken out here. He pulls back from me, his eyes alive and vibrant from our kiss.

“Don’t let that be the last time I taste those fucking lips,” he says with that sadistic glimmer before he taps me on the ass. “Get going.”

It's uncontrollable, the emotion flowing through me right now mixed with the adrenaline of shooting him. I throw myself into his arms and do something I’ve never done. I hug him. Under the dappled sun filtering down through the canopy of the live oaks in his yard, I hold onto Gabriel for dear life. He stands as still as a statue for all of five seconds before his strong arms wrap around me and he hugs me back. I don’t know how long we stay like this, but I know I need it. We both need it.

Finally, I back away and look up at him. I nod and walk back to my shooting position. I pick up the gun and take my stance. Looking at this man who has scared the living hell out of me, torn me to pieces, and built me back up into a stronger version of myself, a man who has kept me here day in and day out, a man who doesn’t have faith in anyone has just put all his faith in me. He put this gun in my hand without hesitation and with the utmost trust. It hits me that I could end him right now if I choose, but I know without a doubt it’s the last thing I’d want to do.

I push everything out of my mind and focus as hard as I can on the X in the center of the target. I block Gabriel out. I adjust my grip, forcing the shake from my hands.

“Don’t think, Brin. Just shoot,” Gabriel says.

I breathe in. I think of all his words. He will not die by my hands today. I’ve got this. I’m strong. I’m his girl.

I breathe out as I pull the trigger.

“Fuck yes, baby.” I hear just before his body slams into mine. Gabriel picks me up and spins me around. I focus on the target that I hit just to the left of the X.

“A fucking bad ass,” he says as he kisses every part of my sweaty neck, my shoulders, my lips. “My wicked girl… the things I’m going to do to you.” He smirks. “But first”—he kisses my lips—“looks like you’re also about to learn how to stitch a man up.”

Oh joy.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

“You don’t have anything to freeze it? Shouldn’t we call Rick?” I ask as Gabriel places the sterile needle in my hand.

He ignores my obvious stress. “It’s two stitches, you can do it. I’m sure you took sewing classes at some point?”

I make a face at him. “I did… with fabric not human skin,”

“There's no difference if you don’t really think about it. This is the sterile side of the counter.” He points to an area he’s cleaned thoroughly. “This is the nonsterile side; you sit here, in the middle.” He hoists me up with one arm as I hold my freshly washed hands up like I’m going into surgery. This man is nuts I’m pretty sure, and yet here I am listening to him so I’m not sure what that makes me.

He grabs a pair of small forceps and places a needle between its teeth then grabs a lighter, holding the flame to the end, curving it slightly. I feel green thinking about piercing his skin with it.

I watch in awe as he lays everything out, cleaning a glass tumbler and then pouring some gin inside.

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