Now Kite has done something he regrets. That was what it was: regret. It came off of him in waves. Fucking me, it had been a mistake. Probably for us both.
So why was my heart beating so fast when I thought about it?
It left my head foggy, my stomach twisting. So just say something and break this tension! I screamed mentally. Clearing my throat once, then twice, I looked at Kite. “Thanks for teaching me to shoot.”
He glanced at me, then nodded. “Yeah. You did pretty good.”
His compliment thrilled me. Just like he'd thrilled me when he'd been touching me, guiding my hands and whispering in my ear on the range. He really was enticing. Knowing what he could do to me, seeing his impossibly well-cut body, resisting would be hard.
Looking at my nails, I remembered how I'd scratched him. It was a spontaneous thing. I was feeling more and more sure he wouldn't kill me, but still, I'd wanted to ensure I'd get a little more time.
With his DNA under my nails, he wouldn't dare try to murder me tonight.
Or I've just guaranteed myself an acid bath in a barrel.
“Anyway,” I muttered as we rolled into the city, “At the rate I'm going, I'll be ready to kill that guy by the time you and Jacob actually find him.”
I heard him crush the wheel. “Oh?” he whispered. “You really think some practice shots are going to prepare you for that?”
Blinking, I tightened my mouth. “Yes.” When he said nothing, just took us down a dark side-street, I pressed on. “Isn't that how you said you and Jacob got good? If I can guarantee the fatal shot, I'll definitely be able to—”
“It isn't the same,” he snapped. He turned off the headlights, the car driving at a snail's pace down another quiet road. I didn't know where we were, but the area looked destitute.
Buildings stood like toothless giants, garbage piled on corners. He whispered, “Even if you line up a shot that will kill, practicing with a paper target won't make you ready to fire on a living person.” He was speaking with a raw edge in his voice.
A heavy pit formed in my guts. “What else can I possibly do to get ready, then?”
Leaning over, he reached into his duffel bag. He was close to me, bending near to get at it on my side of the car. His scent brought back the crisp memory of our bodies rubbing together.
In the dark, the barrel of the Ruger shone like diamond dust in Kite's grip.
My heart had been hammering from excitement. Now, it locked up and rusted away.
Especially when he offered the gun to me.
The single, flickering orange street lamp outside turned Kite's frown as grizzly as a jack o' lantern's. “The only thing that prepares you for killing, is to actually fucking kill,” he said.
I didn't touch the weapon. My tongue was numb. “What?”
Gesturing ahead, Kite had me look out the window. A few yards down on the empty street, there was a man curled up on a filthy bus stop. He didn't see us, he didn't even lift his head.
The word that escaped me was strained. “No.”
Kite shoved the gun at me again. “You keep talking like you're already a hitman. You want to avenge your family and murder someone. Marina, answer me.”
I was sure my heart had stopped. “I'm not shooting someone I don't even know.”
“You think you know the man you want dead? You don't know his name, he's a stranger to you.” Kite moved fast, taking my wrist, slapping the gun's handle into my fingers and trapping them.
Eyes that I'd thought were similar to mine, they were now cold and empty. But not unfamiliar. I'd seen them before.
This was the man I'd watched murder Frank Montego. The silent beast who'd stalked a busy park on a happy summer day.
“It isn't the same,” I said. “The man I'm chasing is a murderer! I know that! This guy is just... I'm not going to kill a random person!”
“Marina,” he whispered. How could a whisper feel like a slap? “Every person you shoot is going to feel the same. Whether you know their past, their sins, or their saintliness.” He pulled away, and the Ruger was left with me. “If you wait until your 'target' is your first, you will not be able to pull that trigger.” His chin dipped, and I wondered where the man who had kissed me had gone. “You will not succeed, and then you will die.”
I couldn't stop shaking. Breathing, swallowing, everything was a struggle. The gun weighed more than the Earth and it was pulling me into my unseen grave.
Narrowing my eyes, I inhaled deep. I remembered everything he had taught me. My thumb popped the safety off, my finger went for the trigger.
I had it halfway up, aimed at Kite, and the words on my tongue were readied. I wanted to say something like, Then I'll just kill you to see if you're right. If every kill feels the same, it won't matter.
I thought I would make a point. Scare him a little, at most.
I never even started my speech.