Page 22 of Liberator

“Not yet,” Colt defiantly said. “I want to get her hands around a gun before she leaves today.”

“That’s not necessary. I can teach her to shoot,” Rage announced.

“That’s not what Prime wants. Flame and Vikki are under my direction until he says differently. I’m the fighter and I’m the man with the most lethal shot. This is what I do, so don’t try to interfere.”

“I say she’s had enough for today,” Rage stated, nose to nose with Colt.

“And I say she’s not finished,” Colt replied.

“And I make my own damn choices. I’m still here, so quit acting as if I’m invisible. I follow Prime’s orders and Flame’s suggestions. They both say I have a lot to learn and a long way to go, so I want the first lesson with the gun,” I proclaimed as I tried to get between them.

“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard,” Rage told me.

“Yes, I should. All of this is new to me. I’m way behind Flame and your male prospect in everything. I’d double the lessons if I could. Let Colt help me. Go back to the club. I’ll find another way to get back,” I replied, flinging the wet, stinking towel at his face.

“Wash up, then be sure to dry your hands really well. You don’t want them slipping on the gun,” Colt said, turning his back on Rage.

“I’m not leaving!” Rage called out as I headed for the locker room.

I shot my middle finger into the air over my head. Colt’s laughter followed me into the locker room.

Squeaky clean and dressed in the jeans and t-shirt I’d bought earlier that day I took the gun from Colt. It was cold against my palm and lighter than it appeared. Still, my hand shook slightly. I took a deep breath to steady my wildly beating heart.

“It’s okay, Vikki. It won’t bite. The damn thing isn’t even loaded. You can calm down. You won’t be shooting at anything today. I just want you to get used to how it feels in your hand. The goal is that it will eventually feel like an extension of your arm, a natural part of your body. You’ll instinctually use it when necessary and ignore it when it’s not needed,” Colt explained.

“That’s going to take a while. It feels foreign to me. It’s cold, hard and scary,” I answered.

“Not for long. We’re going to make you pals with it. Before I’m done it’ll be your best friend and you’ll want to take it everywhere.”

I gave a nervous laugh and said, “I think I’d rather be its boss than its friend.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” he replied with a grin. “Hold it in your hand like this.”

He manipulated my hand around the grip and placed my fingers in an unnatural position. I knew Rage’s eyes were on us through the glass, bulletproof window that separated him from us. I could feel the tension wafting off him through the concrete walls.

“Raise your arm in front of you so we can see how well you handle the weight. You can use the other arm for balance. Most of us do. If this model of gun isn’t the right fit, we have plenty more. Each Sinner has their favorite,” Colt told me.

My arms trembled but I obeyed.

“Relax your elbows and your shoulder slightly,” he explained as he wrapped his arms around me and helped me position the gun at a better level.

He suddenly laughed and spun me in a circle so that I was facing the observation glass. He had me point the gun at Rage who was shouting through the glass, unheard because of the soundproofing. His words were clear enough by the movement of his mouth. He was saying, “Get your fucking hands off of her!”

“Put him out of his misery. Let him take you back to the club. I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow,” Colt said and relieved me of the gun.

I marched past Rage without looking at him. Once we were in the parking lot I continued charging over the pavement pretending I hadn’t seen the huge, black Ram truck Rage preferred when he wasn’t on his bike. I intended to walk all the way to the club.

Footsteps thundered behind me. Large hands lifted me off the ground and over a muscular shoulder. I kicked and squirmed, even used my nails like a tiger’s claws. Rage grunted but didn’t release me until he dumped me into the truck. I scooted across the seat to get out the other side, but he was too fast for me. In an instant his large body covered mine. Both of us were breathing hard, which was difficult for me considering the fact that I was crushed under his weight.

His fingers squeezed my jaw, turning my face toward his though I valiantly tried to fight him. His mouth devoured mine in a demanding kiss. I stiffened. I wasn’t going to give in this time no matter how much my body wanted him. I was going to be the winner in this round.

I bit his lip, hard. He howled and blood dripped off his mouth. Roughly, he nipped at my neck, sucking at it to mark me, claiming territory that wasn’t rightfully his.

“Stop!” I demanded.

“Why? We want each other. You can’t deny it,” he stated.

“Because you’re hurting me and I’m saying no,” I clearly replied.

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