Page 115 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
“Right, let’s go again,” Drake barks.
Trilby steps up. “I’ll go first.”
This time she hits her own paper and we all clap as if we’re at the opera. Tess goes next, cracking her knuckles before firing more bullseyes.
“You’ve been practicing,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
She doesn’t confirm or deny.
When it’s my turn, I lift my pistol and pull back the trigger. I manage to clip the edges again. “This gun just isn’t me,” I mutter, ignoring Trilby’s hiked brows.
Bambi steps up again and this time fires with a little more confidence but a little less precision. One of the lanes falls to darkness.
“It’s fine,” Drake shrugs. “We have more ceiling panels.”
Several rounds and two more ceiling panels later, Drake takes the guns from me and Bambi with a little too much haste. And just in time, the steel door opens again.
While none of us dare look up in case it’s another of Cristiano’s relatives, the air around us shifts, carrying the scent of expensive cologne and single malt whiskey. I dart a glance to the three men, my gaze drawing instinctively to the man on the right. I don’t care about appearances anymore. I close the gap, thread my arms around my husband’s neck and kiss him hotly on the lips.
When I pull free, his eyes survey the range and a smile pulls at his mouth. “So, this is where chaos reigns?”
Trilby bats her lids at Cristiano, then holsters herGlock, making his gazeburn. “We learned valuable skills. Also, we broke the ceiling.”
Cristiano digs his hand into a pocket then passes Drake a roll of fifties.
“And how did you do?” Benito looks at Tess like she’s the only woman in the room.
Tess passes her gun to Drake. “I was brilliant,” she replies, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.
He swallows hard then grabs her hand. “We’ll see you at the diner,” he calls out, before dragging Tess through the door.
As they leave, Nicolò enters. He leans a shoulder against the wall and watches as we discuss our varied performances. I can feel Bambi squirm in embarrassment so I take hold of her hand.
“Same time next week?” Andreas says.
Drake sighs heavily. “Sure.”
Trilby reluctantly hands back her gun. “Do they make these in other colors?”
Cristiano rolls his eyes at Drake then says, “I’ll commission one for you.Ifyou can manage to hit your target better.”
She shoots me a wink before heading out the door. “Well, that’s motivation.”
I’m about to follow but Bambi tugs me back.
“What’s up?” I ask. Her eyes are wild with alarm. “You okay?”
“Allegra is meeting us at the diner, so I don’t have a ride. I can’t sit in a car withhim.” She flicks her eyes to Nicolò. “Please can I ride with you?”
I think nothing of it. “Of course you can. Then you can tell me all about this plagiarism thing. Mainly, who this kid is and where he lives.”
She threads her arm through mine and shakes her head. “I’m not telling any of you. I know what your men are all like. I don’t want the poor guy—as much as I dislike him—ending up dead in a dumpster or at the bottom of the Hudson.”
“Fair enough,” I grin.
Then we follow Andreas out of the range, only one man walking behind.
One who wears nonchalance like a designer accessory, shoes that cost more than our house, and an expression that says he does not care for any of the four pretty sisters he just inherited.
Least of all the youngest.
The end.
