"I'll set it up."
5
"Ready to shoot something?"
Angela gave him a rare, genuine grin, looking at his bandaged arm, and he shook his head, smiling back.
"I said shooting, not stabbing."
They laughed as he set up a dozen empty Coke cans on a long, wide, muddy log. "Your weapon loaded?"
She nodded nervously as the damp wind played with her curls. "Yes."
"Good. Check it again. Always look for problems."
She did it slowly and carefully, as he had shown her.
Marc held up his own weapon, demonstrating. "Hold it with your right and cup it with your left. Curl your finger a little more. Good. Hold it a little higher. Now, see where you want it to go, and put it there."
She pretended not to be bothered by having him so close, but she was, couldn't help but think maybe Kenn was around the corner, watching...
"Angie?"
She looked up at Marc's frown and quickly dropped her head. "Sorry. I'll pay attention."
"Maybe you can't do this," he stated quietly, knowing she would rise to the challenge. That much of his Angie hadn't vanished.
Marc was rewarded with a tilt of the chin and straightening of the shoulders that reminded him of the past.
"I can. I will."
He shrugged like he had little faith, made his tone just a bit patronizing. "Pull the trigger slow, aiming makes all the difference. Go ahead."
Angela's hands were shaking despite her efforts to be steady, and his frown made her flush. Embarrassed, she flipped off the safety and pulled the trigger.
Marc was fast, moving behind her as the recoil rocked her back and into his waiting arms. The bullet slammed into the hood of his Blazer with a loud thud and he dropped his head to her sweet-smelling shoulder, loving being so close.
"The cans, Honey," he groaned against her. "The cans!"
His breath on her neck gave her a chill and Angela moved out of his arms, still waiting to be punished and hating to be touched.
"Do it again."
His tone was more amused than anything else, and she moved back to him cautiously, thinking she hadn't been quite as afraid this time. If he hadn't hit her for drawing blood, what was a bullet hole in a car?
This time Angela expected the jar and managed to keep her feet on the ground as the bullet dug into the log, rattling the cans.