Page 44 of Their Tracked Obsession

Sin grabbed my wrist.

“Not so fast. I know what you’re up to.” Sin placed a gun in my hand. “Here’s something else you can hold on to.”

“But I wasn’t—” Sin cut me off with a tsk.

“Shame on you, Liv, using sexual advances to get out of this.” He wagged a finger at me and put on some protective eyewear. “I’m onto you.”

“No, Sin—” Saint plopped safety glasses over my eyes.

Sin placed protection over his ears.

“I can’t hear you.” Sin pointed at his ears and tugged on my hand. “Come on. Let’s practice.”

I yelped.

Sin pulled me along, and I had no choice but to follow his lead. The gun in my hand made me uncomfortable. The intimidation of the weapon created an unpredictable feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I kept the muzzle in a downward position. Heaven forbid the bloody thing went off by accident.

I’d shoot myself in the fucking foot!

“Guys. Come on. Is this necessary?” I questioned as I stared down the shooting range where a paper target waved at me.

Sin took my weapon and loaded it with ammunition. The danger became more real. He handed the gun back to me.

“Yes,” Saint replied as he put some safety gear over his eyes and leaned in close to me. “The primary aim is to hit inside the circle.”

Sin leaned in closely on the other side of me. “But the key is to hit a bullseye. You see the dot in the middle?”

Sin pointed straight ahead. The tip of his index finger pointed directly at the middle of the circle. He made a gun symbol with his fingers.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Pew…” Sin made the imaginary gun fire. “Bullseye.”

Saint gripped my chin, and my body turned toward him.

“There are four regulations to follow when handling a gun.” Saint moved the muzzle of my gun away from his crotch. “Rule number one. Treat every weapon as if it’s loaded.”

“Oh,” I sighed, my cheeks turning hot.

“Rule two.” Saint pushed the weapon down to point at the ground. “Always keep the muzzle pointing in a safe direction.”

“Sorry.” I blushed harder.

“Three.” Sin ran his hands down my arms and moved my index finger to wrap around the handle of the firearm. “Keep your damn finger off the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot.”

“And rule number four.” Saint locked blue eyes full of intent on me. “Know who your target is and what is beyond it.”

“You never know if the shot could ricochet or go right through your target,” Sin whispered in my ear and turned me back toward the firing range lane. “Hold up your gun, Liv.”

I followed Sin’s command. The weapon aligned with the paper target, which had gone still, and my hand trembled. I was nervous.

“I can’t do this.” I hesitated.

I lowered the weapon.

“Yes, you can,” Saint whispered encouragement in my ear. “You’re powerful, intelligent, and magnificent.”

Sin tilted the gun back up.