Gerry put a hand up. “It’s not me you need to apologize to. You’ve gotten under her skin, Harley, and I can see that she’s gotten under yours. Maybe it’s time you both see what that’s about.”
“We’re too close to it right now.” His jaw tightened, and he put his hands on his hips.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you kissed her senseless last week.” Gerry winked and pulled his cap down over his hair. “Either way, I suspect you had better figure it out soon. See you next week, same time.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, I grabbed you one of these. Figured we needed some way to keep each other in the loop.” Gerry tossed Harley a burner phone. “Untraceable.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem at all.” He smiled and climbed back into his car.
Harley watched as the dust settled on the small road and turned the phone around in his hands. What a turn of luck it had been for him to run into Gerry that night in the bar.
He figured he had better go face the music and apologize.
He found her sitting on the couch, knees folded up and sipping from a mug of coffee.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“For?” she asked innocently.
“For being so rude earlier. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that. I just am feeling so damn useless. Those were two good men, Norah. Men that shouldn’t have died.”
“I’m so sorry, Harley.” Her expression softened.
“I have no idea what to do. How in the world am I supposed to just sit here and not do anything while they are out there murdering innocent people?”
“We aren’t just going to sit here. We are going to come up with a plan. One that starts with you teaching me to shoot.” She took a last drink from the mug and stood. “Then after dinner tonight, we can start brainstorming a way to stop them. Together.”
Norah walked past him and into the kitchen to set her mug down. Harley watched her as she moved. She was a much different person than the woman he had first seen at that banquet.
The woman he knew now wore confidence wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. The bruise that had been on her face had faded, the cut on her forehead from where she had fallen was nearly nonexistent.
She hadn’t worn makeup since she had washed it off that night they had first arrived in Chelon, and he found he rather liked not seeing her face painted.
He had discovered her nose and cheeks were dotted with barely visible freckles. He fought with himself every single night he lay next to her on that bed. He wanted to give her the time that she needed to process the idea of them, but each night he wondered what it would be like to go in and pull her into his arms.
He knew he wanted her—he wasn’t confused about that at all. What he wasn’t sure about was whether it was a good idea to get involved when neither of them knew whether they would survive to see another day. Then again, Harley supposed that might just be a reason to get together after all.
“You ready?” she asked as she slipped into a pair of boots Gerry had bought for her. He did believe the old man was smitten with Norah. The thought made him smile.
“What?” she asked when she noticed.
“Just thinking about how smitten Gerry is with you.”
She grinned. “I feel the same about him.”
He knew it was silly, but it made him a little jealous to hear her say those words.
“I’m ready,” he said, and followed her outside.
* * *
“THIS IS A Springfield nine millimeter. This button here is how you drop the magazine.” He demonstrated and then pushed it back into the gun. “You need to load a round in the chamber, so grip here and slide it back.” He showed her again and she watched, fascinated. “You are going to want to aim by centering this red dot in between these sights.” He pointed to the top of the barrel in demonstration and then held the gun out in front of him to aim at the row of cans he had set up.
“Hold it like this and you want to keep your finger out of the trigger well until you are ready to shoot. When you are ready to fire just gently squeeze the trigger, its best to do it on a slow exhale and make sure not to jerk it. Just gently pull your finger back so you don’t pull the barrel off target.” He pulled the trigger, and Norah jumped slightly when it went off.
“Wow!” she exclaimed when she saw the can fall. “You are really good!”
Harley felt the stroke to his ego and he smiled down at her. “Thanks. There is no thumb safety on this one. Just a grip and trigger safety, which means if you aren’t gripping the weapon hard enough, it may not go off.”
Exhilaration and nerves filled her as he moved to stand behind her and showed her where to place her hands. She could feel him pressing into her back, and had it not been for the anticipation of shooting a gun for the first time, she might have pressed back into him.
“Got it?” he asked once her hands were set.
“Yes.” She smiled and aimed down the sights at the next can.
“The gun is going to kick. You need to recognize it will be there, but don’t fear it, or you may end up jerking the weapon.”
She did as he had instructed and squeezed the trigger back slowly. When the gun went off, there was no fear as she had expected there to be. Instead she felt… powerful, much more so than hitting the punching bag had made her feel.
“That was amazing!” she exclaimed, and looked for the can. It no longer stood on the stump it had been sitting on, and she felt accomplished. “Can we go look at it?”
Harley laughed slightly. “Yes.”
He took the gun from her and she bolted for the stump. She found her can and held it up in the air to do a little dance. The bullet hadn’t gone through the center, but it had damn well taken a chunk out of the side. She had hit at least part of her target on the first time she had fired the gun. It felt good.
“You’re a natural.” Harley smiled and looked at the can. “That’s damn good, Norah.”
“Thank you!” Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you for letting me feel powerful.” She held on when she felt his arm come around her.
“You’re welcome,” Harley said, releasing her.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment while Harley pretended to continue looking at the can.
“So, when are you going to teach me to fight? I mean, I’ve already been hitting the punching bag, but I would love to learn some self-defense.”
“What?” He laughed and stared at her, amusement lighting up his eyes.
“Do you not know how?” Norah mocked, the corner of her mouth turned up.
“I don’t know that you could keep up.”
“I have a mean punch. Just ask Susan Robard.”
“Who’s Susan Robard?”
“The tenth-grade bully I beat up when I was a freshman in high school.”
“Well, if I come across her, I’ll have to ask.”
She was opening up to him again. He was seeing the woman she had been before Clayton had sunk his claws into her. Harley smiled. He was enjoying each new part of herself that she let him see.
“Can I go again?” Norah asked as she set another can up.
“Absolutely.” More time to watch her hold a gun, he thought to himself. And damn it if it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
* * *