The cold night air is a nice reprieve from the house, though I love that I have people who care enough about me to yell at me when I move an I injured muscles, it's exhausting and smothering when I haven't had anyone to look after me since I was a child.
I clear my mind as I walk for the front door, bending down to retrieve the key I know he would've left for me.
I quickly open the door and shut it behind me, a beeping starts, and I walk to the alarm, smiling at the sticky note placed on it.
Your birthday, don't break another one,
- Gary
I quickly input the date and switch on the lights. I turn and walk behind the caged desk, opening the locked gate as I do.
I grab a pair of earmuffs and glasses, grabbing a gun from the shelving. An m45, the matte black casing and heaviness unfamiliar in my grip, but i tighten my fingers and grab some target sheets before I leave and exit the cage.
I lock it behind me and walk down the aisle until I reach the very end.
I prepare myself, attaching the target sheet to the clips. I push the button and watch the sheet fly back until it's in position against the far wall.
I place the earmuffs and glasses on and grab the gun, loading the clip and turning the safety off.
I take a deep breath in, aim my gun and as I breathe out, I pull the trigger.
I'm three sheets down when a slight whining sounds and I move the earmuff off my ear, turning to the entry.
Gary waves lazily as he sips from his coffee and walks behind the desk.
"Mornin', girly. Weren't you injured last time I saw you?"
"Gary." I say in greeting. "Can hardly feel them." I reply on a smile before turning back to the sheet in front of me, setting myself up again.
He harrumphs, looking down his nose at me. "Whatever you say." I hear him murmur as I move the earmuff back.
I block his inquisitive gaze from my mind and focus back to the sheet, cocking the gun back and tunnelling my focus into breathe, aim, shoot and repeat.
The rhythm becomes second nature with each pull of breath inwards and expelling of it outwards, the feel of the trigger beneath my fingertips and the stretch of the stitches slithered across my back, tightening with every harsh movement.
I adjust my stance, rolling my shoulder slowly to release the tension before switching the gun to my other hand and stretching my fingers, reaching up to move the earmuff slightly.
My head falls forward, jaggedly cut strands falling to rest against my shoulders. I close my eyes at the memory of the strands once stained red with my own blood.
I swallow and switch the gun back to my dominant hand, straightening my posture and narrowing my eyes at the sheet.
I startle as the booth next to mine brightens, the lights flickering twice before glaring down at the booth's occupant. The clips for the sheet flying forward.
Archer says nothing as he stares ahead, putting on the earmuffs and glasses. He attaches the sheet and sends it racing back, holding his arms out straight as he aims and shoots.
I watch him for a second longer before I start shooting at my own target sheet.
The gun recoils in my grip but I keep my arms relaxed and steady as I squeeze the trigger again and again.
Ignoring the presence next to me until the clip empties.
I slam the gun down on the table, emptying the magazine and slotting in a new one before straitening my arm, aim and shoot.
I can feel eyes on me, tracing along my arm and side of my face.
The sheet whistles harshly as the bullets hit it one after the other, pieces of paper fluttering to the ground.
I drop the gun back and pull off the earmuffs, turning and raising a brow at the man who stares at me.
"Did you follow me?"
Archer raises a brow and leans against the barrier, hands tucked into his pockets.
"No, I was told I would find you here." His eyes go over my shoulder, a slight smirk on his chiselled face.
My head swings around, catching Gary walking around the wall, whistling lowly.
I turn back to Archer.
I pull the earmuffs off my neck and place them on the counter, jutting my hip against it and crossing my arms. "Why?"
"Because you're supposed to be resting."
"I don't rest."
"Really? I couldn't tell."
"Shut up." I mumble.
"Make me."
I lift a brow at the challenging tone, the gun in my hand lifting and aiming at Archer's head.
He looks down the barrel of the gun before his eyes swing to me and he lifts a goading brow.
In seconds, his hand is wrapped around my wrist, pushing the gun out of the way, and moving so close I can see the gold flecks in his hazel eyes.
His lips lift in a smirk, "Always with the violence."
"It's the best way to get what you want."
He chuckles, his face so close to mine. "There are so many ways to get what you want," his finger lifts, tracing the contours of my jaw, "without resorting to violence."
My stomach rolls and I clench my teeth,
Traitorous body.
He steps back, dipping his chin at me. "Let's get your ass back in bed."
"I've been there long enough," I push myself away from the divider I didn't know I was leaning against and step around Archer, heading for the front counter. "I'm sick of doing nothing."
Archer follows me but I ignore him as I drop the gun back and wave goodbye to Gary.
Spinning, I stalk for the doors, feeling Archer's gaze on me the whole way.
Once we exit, I stumble to a stop seeing the boy waving at me from the backseat of the car.
I turn to Archer who only smirks and continues past me to the door.
He opens it for me, directing me inside.
"We don't have all night."
"Come on Holly, hurry up." Comes the whining boy's voice, his head sticking out the window.
I fight the smile on my lips, walking for the car and taking the passenger seat as Archer shuts the door.
Liam's head pops between the seats as Archer gets in, starting the ignition but not moving the car.
I furrow my brow and look at Archer, but he only shakes his head, "Waiting on someone."
"Clay needs to hurry up, doesn't he realise we have precious Cargo." Liam mutters exasperatedly.
"Don't call her Cargo." Archer mutters, shaking his head and I turn my eyes back to the building when the whining of a door reaches my ears, Clay exiting the building, his green eyes finding mine, narrowing.
"Uh oh. Big brothers mad." Liam whispers, ducking back into the back seat.
I groan lowly, squeezing my eyes shut and resting back in my own seat.
"I just want to do something." I whisper, glancing back at my brother when he open the door, slipping inside next to Liam.
"You can start training again soon," My back straightens, "At home." He adds on when he sees my face brighten.
But I don't care, as long as I can do something.
