Senseless

old friend

Shooting a gun was hard.

I'd learned that, even though I could hit close to the center, it was nearly impossible for me to hit dead center. Nash, however, had proven how easy it was numerous times. He hit the center with each shot, his arm barely wavering under the kick from the trigger. I'd watched how he kept himself tight, his muscles coiled, but not too tense. He looked at ease behind the gun.

I, on the other hand, felt like I was deciding whether someone would live when I was, in fact, only shooting at a foam target.

Nash chuckled at my frustration. "I think you're doing good. I mean, you just started and you're shooting pretty close to the middle every time."

"But you're shooting the middle every time," I said in annoyance.

"I've been shooting since I was seven," he pointed out. I sighed in defeat. I wasn't one for giving up, but my arm was sore from clenching the muscles so hard.

"I'm hungry," I muttered. He grinned, as he did any time I said I was hungry. He acted as though he'd won some battle.

"Alright. We can go grab lunch if you want. I need to go into town."

Ever since I'd finally made my decision the week before, he didn't act so cold all the time. He made a point to smile more and I didn't know quite how I felt about it. It wasn't him, but rather a more forced version. He was trying to act more smiley and I didn't want him to think he had to be that way. It just made no sense that I liked him because of the way he was, so he changed.

We went into town and I chose our usual diner to eat. I'd gained six pounds in a week, which was impressive for me. To celebrate at the end of the week, we'd gone out for cake. It was delicious.

I thought about Jenny's cakes. I'd eaten a slice to make her happy, and it was really good. After cake, we all walked around town looking like the freak show we were. It was Nash, Elena, Natalie, his parents, and a few others walking at safe distances to keep watch. I didn't know why, but Nash said they did that any time his parents, Natalie, and him were out.

I had a feeling he just said that so I wouldn't get irritated. They didn't bat an eye unless someone came too close for comfort to me. Nash had his gun under his coat, too, as did his father.

I could feel a palpable tension in the air, though. Day out or not, Nash and his father didn't seem particularly happy at the moment. I strayed behind to walk with Nash and frowned up at him. "What's going on?"

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "He killed the guy we brought back the other night."

"And that's bad," I said slowly.

Nash chuckled, nodding. "We weren't done. He went too far too fast. Mom couldn't clean him up fast enough." I bit my lip, forcing gruesome images from my head. "He was really angry, but that guy was our cousin. Besides, he knew where Liam was hiding."

"And now you won't know from him," I finished.

Nash nodded, kicking a rock in frustration. "He's coming and we know nothing about who he's bringing or what he has against us."

"Why are you so set on being after him? Can't you just give him Sophie and call it all off?" Nash's eyes hardened for a moment.

"He started all of this when he killed your dad," he said. His voice was like nails. I flinched, raking a hand through my straightened hair. "Look, it'll be over once one of us is dead. That's when everyone else stops."

One of us. I felt my eyes widen at the indication and he put an arm around my waist. "Liam is a coward, and the Michaelsons are bigger than the Hills. We don't have nearly as much to worry about as him, and he's the one hiding because he knows he won't be safe."