Page 9 of Shadow's Edge

“Are they trying to solve world fucking debt?” Match snapped beside me, adjusting his position.

“I doubt they’d be able to spell world fucking debt,” Sharkey added with a snort.

I grinned but didn’t take my eyes off the scope.

“Kai,” Duke’s voice crackled in my earpiece.

“Yeah?”

“Right to left,” he ordered.

Shifting slightly, I double-checked the readings on my scope, exhaling slowly. Alanis Morissette’sJagged Little Pillran through my mind, the familiar melody grounding me.

“Affirmative,” I murmured. “Might want to tell the little girls to hold onto their panties, Duke.”

Match let out a rare laugh beside me.

Without another word, I squeezed the trigger, taking out the first watermelon in a perfect explosion of red pulp. The tin can beside it followed, flipping into the air. Next came the grapefruit, then the apple. I lined up the matchbox next, sending it flying. And finally, my favorite shot of all—the matchstick itself.

Flicking the safety back on, I remained still, watching through the scope. The Knights stood frozen, staring at the now-empty shooting range. Their reactions were priceless—shocked, impressed, a little unnerved.

As I passed my scope over Preacher’s gray-looking face, I caught sight of Jagger. Unlike the others, he wasn’t in shock. He was grinning.

“Think the VP has a thing for you, Kyle,” Sharkey commented, watching through his binoculars.

I ignored him, waiting for an update from Duke.

Finally, as the Knights began setting up new targets, his voice came through my earpiece. “You can show yourself, Kyle.”

I pushed up from my position, brushing dust from my shirt and pants before slinging my rifle over my shoulder. Sharkey stood beside me, already grinning as he raised his binoculars.

“Let’s give the boys a wave,” he suggested.

Together, we raised an arm in unison, waiting for them to notice.

It was Jagger who spotted us first. From this distance, we were barely distinguishable against the bright sky, but the second he pointed, the entire group turned, their heads snapping in our direction. Shock settled over them, a mixture of awe and what-the-fuck expressions.

“Y’all can come down now,” Duke ordered through my earpiece.

Smirking, I shot one last glance through my scope right at Jagger before making my way toward the ladder.

The space from Preacher had been nice, a rare reprieve even though it hadn’t been that long, but we had a job to complete. As we had discussed this morning, if the Knights didn’t have the necessary skills, we would rely on Hunter and his team while keeping the Knights on standby as backup. This wasn’t the ideal option, though. We needed as many fighters as possible to take down these traffickers, and right now, our numbers weren’t where they needed to be.

To cover our bases, I had also reached out to an old friend, Mace. I had known him since my early training days, and his crew was anything but amateurs. They had handled cases like this before—some worse. If shit hit the fan, I knew I could count on Mace and his people to step in. One of his guys, Adam Montgomery,was always ready to move. For now, it was just a heads-up but having them as a backup plan was reassuring.

Following Sharkey and Match down the stairs and out of the clubhouse, we crossed the grass toward the group of Knights waiting for us.

“How the fuck you see so far?” one of them asked—the same guy who had spent the morning bragging about how much pussy he’d pulled the night before.

I had instantly disliked him. I didn’t have time to babysit some asshole whose brain was stuck between his legs. Actually, doing a quick reassessment, considering his phrasing and lack of basic sense, I figured he probably didn’t have a brain at all.

Bringing my rifle around in front of me, I pointed to the scope. “Well, now see,” I drawled, deliberately putting on a simpleton-style hick voice, making some of the guys laugh. “I looked in this here area and didn’t not see nuttin’. So, Match here says I should look through this lil hole doohickey. It wasmagic, like I was right behind y’all. Then I closed my eyes and pressed this here thingy.” I pointed to the trigger, grinning.

Laughter rippled through the group, but when I glanced up, Preacher was watching me with a blank expression. He could disapprove all he wanted, the days when he had any say over what I did were long gone.

“So, now that you know about the doohickey and the thingy, let’s break up into groups and figure out what y’all can do,” Duke clapped his hands, effectively ending the discussion.

By the end of the training session, each of us had three Knights under our command, ready to be tested. Somehow, I’d endedup in a group with Jagger. Teaching him how to use my scope meant getting in close, which quickly turned into anexperience.

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