Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Rifle it is.”
“You said I could choose.”
“We’re going to get you past this fear of yours.” His chin is firm as he pulls an automatic rifle off the wall and walks toward me with it.
I back away.
His eyes narrow.
I do not want to touch that weapon.
“No.”
“Lena, you’ve got this. It’s not any different from any of the dozen handguns you’ve shot since you got here. This one is just bigger.”
“I won’t do it.” I shake my head and turn to leave, and then I’m suddenly in his arms. He’s wrapped around me from behind, kissing my head, trying to soothe me, but everything inside me is shaking.
“You are so strong, baby. You’re in control here, not the weapon. It won’t hurt you.”
“Please don’t make me do it.”
“I won’t make you do anything.” He turns me around so he can see my face, and his own expression falls. “Please don’t cry, Rebel.”
“I’m not.” I sniff, but I refuse to acknowledge the tears running down my cheeks.
“You’ll feel so much better after you shoot it. You’ll take that power back.”
I swallow hard because I want that. I don’t want to be afraid.
“You can’t be there.” I shake my head, and he frowns down at me.
“I’m not leaving your side.”
“I’m not leaving your side, Blackbird. You’ll be safe.”
“What if you’re there and I shoot it wrong, and you get hurt?” The last few words are barely audible, but he hears me. He lifts my chin and kisses me tenderly.
“You won’t hurt me.”
I start to shake my head, but he holds me firm.
“Baby, you literally can’t shoot me. I’m fine. Do you want me to shoot it first, so you can see that it’s safe?”
I nod slowly, and he kisses my forehead.
“Okay, I’ll show you. We’ll be shooting down the range, at a target. Just like always. There’s no way that the bullet can come back to hurt either of us.”
I’m not convinced.
But I follow him out of the armory, and we walk into the range, grabbing eye and ear protection before we walk down to a lane.
“It’s the same concept as when you’re handling a pistol. Feet planted and spread. Keep your core engaged.”
He’s going through all the instructions, but I don’t hear any of the words. I can’t take my eyes off the rifle.
Then, he raises it and points it downrange and pulls the trigger.
Bang! Bang!
“No!” I scream as Gideon is suddenly on top of me, pushing me to the ground. He and Richie have their own weapons drawn, but there’s so much chaos, screams, running people.
“I can’t see the shooter,” Richie yells to Gideon.
“It came from the front entrance.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
More shots are fired, and suddenly, the guys are carrying me through the room toward the back door.
But then another shooter enters that way and starts shooting people too.
We’re trapped.
“We’re going to let them start working the room,” Gideon says, sounding so damn calm. How is he calm? This is all my fault. I just had to see this new exhibit, and now we’re in the middle of a mass shooting.
I’m sobbing, clinging to Gideon as he and Richie make a plan. There’s so much screaming, so much blood.
I can smell the coppery scent in the air, and I can hear the whimpers, the cries for mercy, as the two men continue to shoot the black rifles in their hands.
Oh, God, we’re going to die.
“We’re not going to die,” Richie says. I must have said that out loud. “He’s moved from the door.”
“Move,” Gideon says as he points his gun and shoots. “One down.”
“You killed one?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer me. He and Richie rush me out the back door and into the darkness. Into the rain.
There’s a roar behind us and then hard, fast steps, as if someone is running after us.
“Take her,” Gideon shouts, turning to the door we just ran out of. “Get her out of here!”
“No!” I’m clinging to Gideon. “I won’t leave you here.”
“Go with Richie.” He looks my way just for a second. “Get the fuck out of here, Lena.”
Bang! Bang!
Gideon’s body jerks, and then he falls with me on top of him. Richie fires, taking out the second gunman, and then he pulls me off Gideon, but I can’t stop screaming.
He’s bleeding. The rain washes the blood into a pool around him, and I wiggle out of Richie’s hold and fall back over Gideon.
“No! No no no. You’re okay. It’s okay. Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s going to be fine.” His voice is raspier, and he’s breathing hard, but he doesn’t seem like he’s close to passing out. “I need you to get out of here, Lena. Let Richie get you somewhere safe.”
I can hear sirens in the background.
“I’m not leaving you. We’ll get you in an ambulance.” I rip off my jacket, and then my sweater, and wrap the sweater around his leg to help stop the bleeding.