Page 2 of Hunted

Frankly, she didn’t care if this dude had Daffy Duck and Wily Coyote inked all over himself. She needed a gun and fast. Her ex was being released from prison and coming back to town. She had no delusions about him. He’d come for her, and it wouldn’t be pretty. No way would she allow Mike anywhere near her or their son. He’d lost his parental privileges the day he’d beat her up so badly she’d ended up in the ER with two broken ribs and a bruised collarbone. That had been the same night she’d discovered she was pregnant with Thomas. Talk about the good with the bad.

“That’s right.” She tried to project more confidence than she felt as she stepped up to the counter once more and set Thomas atop the glass display case. Her son was eighteen-months old and weighed nearly twenty-five pounds. Good for Thomas, not so good for her when she had to hold him for extended lengths of time. Leila was strong, but her usual workouts had not prepared her for holding a squirming kid in her arms for hours at a time.

“Unless you think there’s another firearm that might work better for me,” she continued, doing her best to focus on the important conversation at hand and not the fact that her baby was currently grinning at the man behind the counter. “I don’t really care as long as it works.”

“Hi!” Thomas said, his attention focused on the gun store owner.

“Hey, kid. What’s your name?” the guy asked with a genuine smile for the boy.

“T…ta.” Her son turned to her in confusion since he’d been struggling with the “th” sound.

“Thomas,” she said quickly. “This is Thomas.”

“Nice to meet you, Thomas. Give me five?” The man held out his hand, palm up, and Thomas smacked it with his own. “Nice job, little guy. Now, let’s see what we can do for your mama.”

His gaze came back to her as he placed the heels of his hands against the glass topped case and rested his weight on them. His movement caused his muscles to ripple beneath his T-shirt. Not that she was noticing. Nope. After a lifetime of bad experiences with men, Leila was done with them. This guy had been nice to her son, which was a point in his favor, but there weren’t enough points in the world to make her trust a man with her safety or her son’s again.

She and Thomas would be just fine on their own—and she’d raise him to be the kind of man a woman truly could trust. She’d make sure he’d respect women and not yell at them or hit them. She’d had enough of that from her father growing up and later from her ex. All her regrets and mistakes came back to her. Those mistakes were what led her to this gun shop.

If only she’d known Mike was involved with a gang—running drugs and worse—she’d never have married him. But she’d been young and stupid, and she’d given him her heart and her virginity at twenty-two thinking he’d take her away to a better life. He’d taken her away all right. Straight to hell. Now, three years later, she was alone and raising her son as best she could.

No way would Mike ever get near them again. No. Way.

“You ever used a gun before?” the guy asked, his tone wary.

“No.” Leila raised her chin. “But it can’t be that hard, right? Point and shoot.”

“Not exactly.” The guy glanced over her shoulder and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Shit. Someone else was in the store. She’d vaguely registered another person when she’d entered but had been so focused on getting a weapon she hadn’t paid much attention.Stupid, Leila. So stupid.The first thing the instructors taught her in those self-defense classes she’d taken last year had been to be aware of her surroundings at all times.

She turned fast, one hand on Thomas on the counter, the other clutching her keys between her fingers, ready to lash out at anyone who tried to hurt her.

“Whoa there, little lady,” a skinny guy in a cowboy hat said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I was just going to ask you if you wanted to get a cup of coffee.”

“She doesn’t want coffee, Dev,” the guy behind the counter answered for her.

“How do you know what I want?” Leila frowned at him and squinted at the name embroidered on the man’s T-shirt. “Clint.”

“Doyou want coffee?” He raised a brow at her.

No, she didn’t. But it was none of his business, and she didn’t need him talking over her and answering questions addressed at her. “What I want is a gun. You going to sell me one or not?”

“After a background check and proof you’ve had the proper training—yeah, I’ll sell you a weapon.”

Damn. It wasn’t that she couldn’t pass the check, but she had no training. Leila grimaced. She hadn’t really thought things through before racing down here. She’d always been a bit impulsive that way, as her mother would attest. It was what had gotten her in trouble with her father growing up, always acting without considering the consequences. It was how she’d ended up married to an abusive asshole like her ex. It was the main thing that kept her up at night wondering how in the world she’d ever be a fit mother for poor Thomas. If she couldn’t make good choices for herself, how would she ever be able to do that for her child?

“Dev, go away,” Clint said from behind the counter, his voice authoritative. “Go find yourself another online girlfriend and leave this lady alone.” Surprisingly, the other man did as he was told, the bells over the door jangling merrily at his departure. That left her alone with Mr. Intense, Hot, and Brooding. He focused those bright blue eyes of his on her again and squinted. “Perhaps if you tell me what you need the gun for, I can figure out what would work best for you. Then we can talk about what kind of training you need.”

“Oh.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled a leather key chain from a nearby display away from Thomas. He was at the age where he was grabbing at everything. “Just the usual.” She tried to sound casual. “Can’t be too careful these days.”

“Uh-huh. Here you go, buddy.” He handed Thomas a bright orange koozie with the store’s logo on it to play with. “Look, lady, I can tell you’re nervous about something. I don’t mean to pry, but if you’re in trouble in some way, maybe I can help. I used to be in the military and?—”

The tension inside Leila exploded into full-blown panic. No, no, no. She didn’t need that kind of help. The fewer people who knew about her past and her ex, the better. She’d come in here expecting quick service and no questions. Wasn’t that what the business’s name seemed to promise? This cross examination wasn’t what she wanted. It was bad enough she was even in here, trying to buy a gun. Blood pounding in her head and pulse racing, Leila picked up Thomas and stepped back. “I need to go. Sorry.”

“Wait,” Clint said. “I’ll help you, but there are more steps to this than you might realize. You have to shoot a gun before buying it, and little ones don’t usually like the noise.” He gestured to Thomas.

“Right. I’ll come back another time.” She turned and hurried to the door with one nervous glance over her shoulder. Her hopes for a quick transaction had faded, and she didn’t want to stick around and deal with more questions, more probing. She sure as hell wasn’t going to confide in him just because he was nice to Thomas and wasn’t a dick to her in the five minutes since she’d walked in the door. She needed to retreat and re-think this.

She hustled outside, strapped Thomas into his car seat quickly, and slid behind the wheel to drive away. As she put her SUV in drive, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Clint was standing in the door to his shop, leaning one muscular arm against the frame. He hadn’t chased after her. Instead, it felt like he was watching over her.

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