Page 29 of Captured Onyx

Chapter 14

Nate

I let her take a few more shots, and she grows more confident with each one. She doesn't come close to hitting any of the targets lined up along the trunk, not even when we step closer and have less than three yards between them and us. But that doesn't matter. If everything goes as planned, she will never have to use a gun. This is merely a precaution and a way to get her used to the environment she's now a part of. I can't have her trembling every time she sees a handgun. This goody-goody, small town girl doesn't have to grow into the fierce, cunning assassin that our Lailah chose to be—she just needs to take a few steps in that direction in case the role calls for it.

I also show her how to reload both the Colt and the Glock and how to store them in a safe way before putting both guns away and calling it a day. It's starting to get dark, and I'm starving.

She trots along next to me like an obedient puppy as we head back to the house. Something has changed about her, it's impossible to miss. She stands taller, adopting a more confident stance even when walking next to me. I noticed the way she leaned into me when I supported her. She was quivering with fear when we started, barely able to hold onto the gun, let alone aim and shoot it.

But that changed when I put my arms around her, when I could feel the heat emitting from her petite body and took in the fresh scent of her skin. She‘s responsive to me in a way that I didn‘t expect. Her entire stance relaxed when I was close to her, and with every successful shot fired, her back grew straighter and her expression brighter.

It was beautiful to watch.

She is beautiful to watch.

Of course she is. She looks exactly like Lailah. I shouldn't be surprised that I'm this mesmerized by her looks, not when I've fallen for them before.

"Did you train Lailah, too?" she asks, as if she could read my thoughts. I'm startled by her question, so I avoid her probing gaze.

I shake my head. "I didn't need to. She already knew how to fire a weapon."

"Always?" she continues. "Someone must've taught her."

"I told you, she grew up in the Covey. She's a daughter of the syndicate."

She nods silently, a shadow casting over her pretty face. Is that a flicker of jealousy I see? Or am I seeing what I want to see?

She hates me. She must hate me. Why would she be jealous of a girl who once managed to charm the pants off me?

Once.

It feels like an eternity ago. So much has happened since—and most of it wasn't good.

"About goddamn time," Daveed greets us when we step back into the house. "Almost thought you guys had run off together."

He's sitting at the table, cleaning guns, like he always does when he's on edge. The look he throws at us is his usual, full of menace and disdain. I wish I could trust this guy as much as I trust Mike, but with Daveed you never know. He was quick to join the Onyx mission when we first started out, but his snide remarks and objections have been giving me a headache from the beginning. And it's only gotten worse since Lailah fell too sick to carry out her part.

"Dinner's almost ready," Mike says, grinning at me with misplaced pride. He's standing next to the steaming water kettle, a few packages of instant ramen noodles spread out before him, along with some sandwiches and cans of soda. What a feast, indeed.

The girl's eyes widen nonetheless, and it's obvious that she's craving food as much as I am, if not more.

That's good. She needs to eat, and if she has an appetite there's less to worry about in regard to her mental constitution.

"Sit," I tell her, pointing to one of the chairs at the table, across from Daveed. I don't want her to sit next to him.

The frown on her face reminds me once again that this is not Lailah I'm speaking to. She looks so different when she grimaces that way. Or maybe it's just because Lailah never looked at me like that. She was stronger than this girl, more experienced and fierce in a way that only a girl bred into crime could be—but she was also more obedient. It was ingrained into her to follow orders from a superior without question.

This one, however...

"I don't understand why you feel the need to treat me like a dog," she needles as she trudges over to the empty chair.

Daveed and Mike chuckle at her remark and cast me ridiculing looks. It makes my blood boil. I can't tolerate her defiance in front of my people.

She'll have to pay for this later.

"Shut up and help Daveed clear the table so we can eat."

Now I'm met with two frowning faces. I wave them off and turn to Mike, ignoring the smirk on his face as I put away the guns we used for training.

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