“Why does the slide stay back when there are no more bullets?” I asked, remembering the night before when he switched magazines.
He picked up one of the guns and slipped in one of the empty magazines, then slapped the bottom. He then pulled on the slide until it stayed back. “See that tab there.” He pointed to a small piece of metal sticking up in the slide. “When there are no more bullets to load in that pops up, holding the slide back.”
He ejected the magazine and released the slide before replacing it with a loaded one. “Now the gun is loaded but not chambered.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning there’s no bullet ready to go.” He pulled on the slide and that familiar sound filled my ears. “That’s cocking the gun. The hammer is now in position to fire.”
“Huh. Do you walk around with it not ready to go?”
He shook his head. “That’s a bullet in my ass waiting to happen.”
My lip twitched before a full, loud laugh sprang from my chest as the image popped in my head.
Gripping the magazine, I tried to slip it in the slot, only to have to turn it around because it was backwards. I pulled on the slide—no easy task—and released.
But it didn’t go back all the way. My lips pulled to the side as I inspected it, trying to figure out what was wrong when Six reached out and took the gun from me.
“Out of battery.”
“Battery? There are no batteries.”
A loud laugh sprang from him, one I’d never heard before. “No batteries.” He pulled the magazine out and pulled the slide back, a bullet popping free. “The slide stays back because the gun is recoil driven. If there is a bullet that isn’t properly seated, the slide doesn’t fully return, and can’t be fired… Well, most of the time.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“Basically the gun having a mini-explosion in your hand.”
“Ouch.” I stared at the smile on his face. It was natural and easy and new. “You like talking about guns, don’t you?”
He nodded. “How can you tell?”
“Because you’re all casual with me, not lifting up a bullet and telling me that it was mine and how you were going to put it in my skull. That, and I’ve never seen you smile like this.”
The smile dropped, the fun fading. He was not amused.
“Right on all counts. I love talking about guns,” he picked up one of the bullets and, just as I described, held it out, “and this is still coming for you.”
“Why?”
“Because until then the job isn’t done.”
“Can’t you just say you killed me?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.”
My gaze moved from him down to the bed, watching as he gathered up all the full magazines and guns, placing them back in the bag.
“I already let your boy toy live, which goes against the job.”
Boy toy? “Digby?”
He nodded. “You two were pretty cozy. He obviously means a lot to you.” He scooted down the bed, settling in for a nap.
“He did. I just… I wasn’t as in love with him as I thought.” A nap sounded like a good idea, so I fell next to him onto my back and let out a heavy breath. My whole body was exhausted. “But I didn’t want him to die because he happened to run into me.”
His gaze turned my way, brown eyes studying me. “Such a strange, selfless creature.”
“No, I’m pretty selfish, actually.”
Turning onto my side, I ran straight into his arm. My bottom lip jutted out, and I lifted up his arm and snuggled into his side, resting my head on his chest.
He didn’t say anything, but his fingers did brush my hair back.
I pulled back the dressing on my leg and cringed. It wasn’t pretty. It was healing, but I kind of expected it to look better after a week.
We stayed in the motel room the entire time, with only one trip out to a grocery and to switch out cars. Laying low in an entirely different fashion than before.
And by switch out, I meant steal. It wasn’t one of the set-up, ready and waiting ones.
During that time, he tried to get more information about Four while I learned the mechanics of guns, from safety to disassembling and cleaning. Not to mention the cabin fever that was beginning to consume me.
“Does this look okay?” I held my leg out, and he stood up and walked over to examine it.
His hand ran up the inside of my thigh as he took hold of my leg and turned it in the light. “It’s healing nicely. How does it feel?”
“The pain is pretty much gone, just depends on how I move the skin.”
He nodded. “Sounds about right. You should keep that off, let it get some air.”
I moved to resting on my knees, then placed my hands on his waist, working my fingers under until they met skin. Slowly, I moved my hand up his abs, etching into memory the warm, hard flesh beneath.
“Then you should too.”