Page 40 of Bastard
“Yes,” Vin replies.
“Update me later on her progress.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes,sir,” I repeat, disliking this exchange. “Mexican Barbie over here is more capable than you think. Give me ten minutes to prove it.”
“Keep tempting me and I might take you up on that,” Hayden replies, then walks off.
“Friendly guy.”
I snort.
“Is he always that abrupt?”
“Yes. Just ignore him,” I say, my eyes tracking Hayden as he disappears down the hallway and out of earshot. “Now about those kickboxing lessons.”
* * *
By day five, I’ve got Niko—nickname Vin—right where I want him, with his shirt off, muscles on display, and a loaded gun in his hand. We’re on the upper deck practicing shooting clay bottles set on top of floating buoys we’ve set in the ocean. Hayden is otherwise occupied—so I’m told. What else am I supposed to do but learn what I can while entertaining myself as much as I can?
Niko knows it too. “You’re doing this intentionally.”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “Doing what?”
He chuckles. “Pretending I’m some ice-cream you’d like to lick while the yacht pulls further away from the buoys.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry, not a fan of ice-cream. Caramel flan, on the other hand ...”
He chuckles. “Come on, hot stuff. Show me what you’ve got.” He’s already fired a round, taking down six bottles.
With slow, deliberate movements, I load the two Glocks, the one I’m familiar with and the new one that arrived with the teal towels. I go with what’s proven first, firing five bullets and then five more, knocking down ten marine-friendly pots.
Niko grunts beside me. Competitive, just as anticipated.
I switch to the new Glock. It’s lighter and fits better in my palm. And, as I fire it, it handles nicely. I bite my lip, remembering another firing range, when I stubbornly selected a rifle to shoot, receiving a bruised shoulder in the process and Hayden’s unguarded attention.
Niko whistles. “Who’s instructing whom today?”
I laugh and a few guards turn to look. Spying on me? Reporting back to the boss?No me importa.
“What’s next?” he asks.
“Te voy a romper la madre.”
“What does it mean?”
I grin. “Loosely translated. I’m going to kick your ass.”
The look on his face has me laughing. Then he’s laughing.
Ten minutes later, I’m eating my words. Clearly, life away from the violence in Loreto has left me out of practice. Niko offers me a hand up from the mat I’ve been flipped onto, looking smug yet a tiny bit remorseful. I quickly scramble to my feet, this time managing to stay upright as I dodge air punches and kicks. It ends in the same manner as before, with him charging at me and wrestling me to the mat.
“You’re enjoying this,” I accuse him.
“As much as you enjoyed out-shooting me.” His lips twitch, his face softens, and then he’s leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.
I freeze, unsure how to handle this. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
