Page 67 of Her Wild Coast Promise

ChapterEighteen

SETH

I aimat the target at the far end of the range and fire a full round, the blast dulled by the protective headset. It’s long distance, but my holes aren’t centered the way they should be. My target would still be dead if he was a real person, but I’m off my game today, and I know why.

Normally, visiting the shooting range is calming the way a cup of tea on a rainy day might be for other people. Today, it’s like trying to meditate in the middle of a traffic jam.

In the adjoining booth next to me, Hunter fires his bolt action rifle, cocks and fires again twice more. He’s a better shot than me at this range, the holes focused in the paper chest.

I switch to shorter range and my pistol. This is the most likely way I would use my weapon in the line of duty. My shots hit the mark well enough, but my concentration wanders.

Cora.

I refocus by emptying my mind and grounding with my senses. My breath in my windpipe. The scent of cold concrete and spent ammunition. The solid ground beneath my boots. I manage to finish strong, but when I finally pack up and head for the locker area, my quads feel like noodles and my chest is heavy, like I’m wearing a weighted vest.

Hunter is ahead of me, chatting with the attendant. I tuck my headphones and protective eyewear into my bag, fighting the feelings that have been creeping up on me since that morning Cora and I kissed for the last time.

I’ve made a promise I can’t keep.

Scratch that—it’s not that Ican’tkeep it, it’s that I don’t want to.

I check out with the attendant, and Hunter and I head into the locker room. Firing ranges have high levels of mercury that stick to the soles of shoes and will contaminate any surface we walk on. It’s why Hunter and I have dedicated range boots, so we don’t track mercury into homes where children crawl and play.

Will I someday think about this for my own family, and not just a courtesy to others?

For one fleeting instant, I picture a tea party on the floor with a little girl. She has Cora’s mischievous grin, and a laugh like sunshine.

An intense emotion rises through me. I shake my head to break free of it, but when I open my locker, the sight of my uniform hanging there reminds me of Cora and the almost reverent way she looks at me when I’m wearing it. It’s a look that makes me feel proud to be a cop. Like my sacrifices matter.

Thoughts of her fill my mind. Her warmth, her smile. The way she listens. Her laughter and kindness, her courage. Not to mention her hungry groans and her warmth, the way she kisses me, like she wants to make it last. Is the longing for her simply because she’s brave, eager, and in touch with her desires—or am I just bruised from the way I’ve been treated before and she’s like cherry blossoms in spring?

Whatever the reason, I want more of it. Yet we promised.

“You were downright terrible today,” Hunter heckles from his locker across the bench. “What gives?”

“Got a lot on my mind,” I reply, sliding on my pants.

“The election?” He tucks in his uniform shirt. “Don’t think for one minute that Peyton Reece is going to win.”

I wince. I don’t want to think about Peyton or the rapidly approaching election right now.

“The cases? Work? We’re making progress, I can feel it. Especially with the help of this task force.”

“How do you do it?” I ask, bracing against the locker for a moment before spinning to my friend. “How do you not worry about Petra and your kids?”

Hunter’s eyes fill with compassion. “Like as a cop? What if I don’t come home?”

“Yeah,” I say, and lower to the bench, my head in my hands. “Shit.”

Hunter comes over with his socks and shoes and settles in next to me with a heavy sigh. “I’m not gonna lie, brother. I worry plenty.”

I glance up. “So you just deal with it?”

“I try not to dwell on it.” He slides on a sock. “The chances of me being killed in the line of duty are smaller than me drowning.”

I scoff. “You’re a former SEAL. Drowning isn’t in your skillset.”

“True, but you get my point.” He slides on the other sock and tucks into each shoe. “I almost lost Petra once. And the thought of living without her, even if the time we have together is cut short…I couldn’t bear it.”

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