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I wished my gun was full of death, not paint.
“It’s not really up to you to say what feelings I’m supposed to have,” I muttered.
“You’re weak.” Kyle sniffed. “Just pointing it out.”
“I could be weak.” I nodded. “Or I could finally be learning the power of emotions and all the other shit that comes with them.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’re a poor little broken boy who didn’t get a hug from his mother.” He laughed and rolled his soulless eyes. “Tell you what…when you stop searching for love and accept that you’re top of the food chain and those little jewels are ours to slice, dice, fuck, and shoot, then we’ll talk. Until then…you’re wasting my time.” He scoffed at Charles and his winded breathing. “Actually, you’re both wasting my time.” Breaking into a run, he dashed toward the black maw in the cliffs. “See you later, losers. I’ll be sure to leave a few pieces for you.”
“Asshole.” Charles watched him go. “Always has been.”
And that asshole was hunting Ily.
“See ya round, Charles.” I took off after Kyle.
No fucking way would I let him out of my sight.
Charles tried to call me back, but his wheeze faded beneath the surf.
My feet pounded over sand and sea glass, chasing Kyle as he leapt over a few rockpools and scurried up the boulders toward the black crack in the cliffside. Taking the path of least resistance, he scaled the rocks and pulled away as I slogged through soft sand.
Changing my direction, I followed his, leaping onto the rocks and praying I didn’t break an ankle.
The sly fucker kept up a pace my damn loafers couldn’t. The slippery shoes offered no traction as I did my best to leap from rock to rock. Slinging my gun over my shoulder with its black strap, I tried to go faster—to stop him, kill him, only…
A strange rumbling beneath my feet.
A roar of power; a shake of earth.
A flock of seagulls took wing.
“Watch out!” Charles yelled behind me.
Too late.
Kyle vanished into the cave just as a gush of heavy seawater exploded beneath me.
It felt as if the ocean formed a fist and sucker-punched me right in the balls, throwing me backward, slapping me with a tower of salt.
My back bellowed as I landed on craggy rocks.
My temple thwacked against a sharp outcrop.
My gun broke from my weight, the muzzle snapping in half as I tucked and rolled, wincing as a curtain of punishing rain pummelled from above just like it’d pummelled from below.
A few seconds and it was over.
The roar faded, the violent water nothing more than wetness glittering on rocks.
Fuck!
Cupping myself, I rode through the flush of icy-hot agony as my balls throbbed from the ocean’s beating. Everything hurt. Everything dripped.
Goddammit!
Clucking his tongue, Charles appeared by my pounding head.
Planting his hands on his hips, he looked at where I lay contorted and in motherfucking agony. “Blowhole got you good, huh? Avoid the rockpools. You have no idea which one will turn into a waterspout.”
