Bestie
Page 13
I block my ears with a huge grin on my face as he squats down and aims the gun. He pulls the trigger, and it hits the watermelon. The fruit explodes into a mess, flying in all different directions. I scream happily and clap my hands.
“That was fucking awesome!” He laughs. “You have a go.”
“Oh, my god, I don’t know how to do this.”
He hands me the gun. “You just pull this bit back—” he points to a little leaver “—then hold it up to your shoulder here, stare down through the little hole, and pull the trigger.”
“Eeek,” I say, taking the gun from him and fiddling with it until it feels right.
“I’m recording you,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I want to see how the second one explodes.”
“Oh, pressure!”
“Wait,” he says, walking over and sliding the ear muffs on. “You’ll go deaf otherwise.”
I grin up at him and then position the gun and peer down through the tiny hole. I pull the trigger. The sound explodes around me and the gun presses back into my shoulder, but the adrenaline that rushes through me makes me want to scream with excitement. Damn. That felt pretty fucking good.
“I missed it!” I yell.
“Go again, you got five bullets.”
I aim again and pull the trigger. The bullet hits the watermelon, and it explodes. I whoop with joy and look over to Roman, who is laughing as he films. “Fuck yeah! Now hit the traffic cones.”
I aim again, and shoot the last three bullets, missing the traffic cones each time, but I’m so pumped I don’t care. I stand up and hand the gun back. “That was so cool!”
“Well, the trees, bushes, dirt, and air that got hit by your bullets don’t think so.”
I thump his shoulder. “Shut up. I tried.”
He rolls his eyes with a grin. “You couldn’t see the big, orange traffic cones?”
“Tosser.”
He winks at me.
“You like that?” he asks as we walk back to the truck.
“That was awesome! I loved it.”
“You should get some. When I used to live out here, I used to just sit in this half closed in shed I made and just shoot for hours. Kind of like a man cave, I guess.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t come and piss you off in that man cave.”
“Ha, nah. I wouldn’t either.”
“It’s a shame you have to sell this place. It really is incredible.”
“Yeah.” He nods, putting the guns back in the case and sliding it into the truck. “It is, hey. Still, when I sell it, I’ll buy something closer to where we are now.”
“That’ll be nice too. It’s a good area.”
“Yep. You hungry?”
I nod.
“Let’s go get some food.”
We both leap back into the truck, and I realise for the first time in a few weeks Michael hasn’t crossed my mind once.
Is this how it feels to finally move on?
~*~*~*~
The rumble of bikes has a massive smile spreading across my face. I look up from doing the dishes and reach for a towel, drying my hands. Dad and the club have been out the last few days for a ride, and they’ve obviously just gotten back into town. I rush over to the front door and swing it open. My dad is standing, hand raised, ready to knock.
“Dad!” I cry, throwing myself into his arms.
He takes a step back and makes an oomphing sound. “Last time you jumped on me like this, you were ten,” he grunts, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing me. “How are you, baby girl?”
“Awesome,” I say, letting him go and glancing past him. He has Krypt, his Vice President, Mack and Tyke with him. They’re basically his right-hand men. All of them are extremely close. “Hi, guys! Come in!”
“Tell me you take after your old man and keep beer in this place?” Krypt says, winking at me as he walks into my house.
“Don’t ask stupid questions, Krypt, of course I have beer in the house. You do realise it’s only midday, though?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, darlin’,” he says.
“Hey, Mol, how’s things?” Mack says, stepping up and hooking me around the waist, pulling me in for a hug.
“Good, Mack. How are you? How’s Jaylah?”
“Drivin’ me nuts, as always. Wouldn’t have her any other way. My boy been over here driving you crazy?”
“I haven’t seen Jack for a few days, but I have no doubt he’ll show his face either today or tomorrow. He’s busy hunting down a female that doesn’t want him.”
Mack chuckles and lets me go. “Do him good to have a challenge.”
“Yeah.” I giggle. “And it’s entertainment for the rest of us.”
Mack laughs and disappears into my house.
“Hey, Molly,” Tyke says.
“Hey, Tyke, how are you?”
He grins. “Awesome.”
They all move into my kitchen, help themselves to a beer, and then flop themselves onto my couch. I sit down on the carpet, crossing my legs.
“Where’s your sister?” Dad asks, cracking a beer. “I went past her place, she wasn’t there.”
“I think she’s working,” I say. “How was the ride?”
“Ride’s a ride, baby.”
I roll my eyes. They never give anything away.
“You look happier this week,” Mack says, resting his beer between his legs.
“Yeah, it’s been a good week. How Diesel? I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
Mack grunts. “Swooning all over that girl still.”
I laugh. “Aw, come on Mack. She makes him happy.”
“A bike could make him happy, too.”
“We all know Diesel is not going to be a biker.”
Mack purses his lips. He’s Native American and extremely good looking, even for his age. He still keeps his hair long and braided down his back. His skin is soft, untouched, and light brown. He doesn’t look like he’s old enough to be my father, I guess his heritage makes his youth stick.
“Fuck knows what Diesel is going to be.”
“Happy,” I point out.
Mack raises his brows, then grins. “Can’t argue with that, darlin’.”
“What about Phoenix and Quinn?” I say, turning to Krypt. “Still driving the world crazy, one sarcastic comment at a time?”
“That was fucking awesome!” He laughs. “You have a go.”
“Oh, my god, I don’t know how to do this.”
He hands me the gun. “You just pull this bit back—” he points to a little leaver “—then hold it up to your shoulder here, stare down through the little hole, and pull the trigger.”
“Eeek,” I say, taking the gun from him and fiddling with it until it feels right.
“I’m recording you,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I want to see how the second one explodes.”
“Oh, pressure!”
“Wait,” he says, walking over and sliding the ear muffs on. “You’ll go deaf otherwise.”
I grin up at him and then position the gun and peer down through the tiny hole. I pull the trigger. The sound explodes around me and the gun presses back into my shoulder, but the adrenaline that rushes through me makes me want to scream with excitement. Damn. That felt pretty fucking good.
“I missed it!” I yell.
“Go again, you got five bullets.”
I aim again and pull the trigger. The bullet hits the watermelon, and it explodes. I whoop with joy and look over to Roman, who is laughing as he films. “Fuck yeah! Now hit the traffic cones.”
I aim again, and shoot the last three bullets, missing the traffic cones each time, but I’m so pumped I don’t care. I stand up and hand the gun back. “That was so cool!”
“Well, the trees, bushes, dirt, and air that got hit by your bullets don’t think so.”
I thump his shoulder. “Shut up. I tried.”
He rolls his eyes with a grin. “You couldn’t see the big, orange traffic cones?”
“Tosser.”
He winks at me.
“You like that?” he asks as we walk back to the truck.
“That was awesome! I loved it.”
“You should get some. When I used to live out here, I used to just sit in this half closed in shed I made and just shoot for hours. Kind of like a man cave, I guess.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t come and piss you off in that man cave.”
“Ha, nah. I wouldn’t either.”
“It’s a shame you have to sell this place. It really is incredible.”
“Yeah.” He nods, putting the guns back in the case and sliding it into the truck. “It is, hey. Still, when I sell it, I’ll buy something closer to where we are now.”
“That’ll be nice too. It’s a good area.”
“Yep. You hungry?”
I nod.
“Let’s go get some food.”
We both leap back into the truck, and I realise for the first time in a few weeks Michael hasn’t crossed my mind once.
Is this how it feels to finally move on?
~*~*~*~
The rumble of bikes has a massive smile spreading across my face. I look up from doing the dishes and reach for a towel, drying my hands. Dad and the club have been out the last few days for a ride, and they’ve obviously just gotten back into town. I rush over to the front door and swing it open. My dad is standing, hand raised, ready to knock.
“Dad!” I cry, throwing myself into his arms.
He takes a step back and makes an oomphing sound. “Last time you jumped on me like this, you were ten,” he grunts, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing me. “How are you, baby girl?”
“Awesome,” I say, letting him go and glancing past him. He has Krypt, his Vice President, Mack and Tyke with him. They’re basically his right-hand men. All of them are extremely close. “Hi, guys! Come in!”
“Tell me you take after your old man and keep beer in this place?” Krypt says, winking at me as he walks into my house.
“Don’t ask stupid questions, Krypt, of course I have beer in the house. You do realise it’s only midday, though?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere, darlin’,” he says.
“Hey, Mol, how’s things?” Mack says, stepping up and hooking me around the waist, pulling me in for a hug.
“Good, Mack. How are you? How’s Jaylah?”
“Drivin’ me nuts, as always. Wouldn’t have her any other way. My boy been over here driving you crazy?”
“I haven’t seen Jack for a few days, but I have no doubt he’ll show his face either today or tomorrow. He’s busy hunting down a female that doesn’t want him.”
Mack chuckles and lets me go. “Do him good to have a challenge.”
“Yeah.” I giggle. “And it’s entertainment for the rest of us.”
Mack laughs and disappears into my house.
“Hey, Molly,” Tyke says.
“Hey, Tyke, how are you?”
He grins. “Awesome.”
They all move into my kitchen, help themselves to a beer, and then flop themselves onto my couch. I sit down on the carpet, crossing my legs.
“Where’s your sister?” Dad asks, cracking a beer. “I went past her place, she wasn’t there.”
“I think she’s working,” I say. “How was the ride?”
“Ride’s a ride, baby.”
I roll my eyes. They never give anything away.
“You look happier this week,” Mack says, resting his beer between his legs.
“Yeah, it’s been a good week. How Diesel? I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
Mack grunts. “Swooning all over that girl still.”
I laugh. “Aw, come on Mack. She makes him happy.”
“A bike could make him happy, too.”
“We all know Diesel is not going to be a biker.”
Mack purses his lips. He’s Native American and extremely good looking, even for his age. He still keeps his hair long and braided down his back. His skin is soft, untouched, and light brown. He doesn’t look like he’s old enough to be my father, I guess his heritage makes his youth stick.
“Fuck knows what Diesel is going to be.”
“Happy,” I point out.
Mack raises his brows, then grins. “Can’t argue with that, darlin’.”
“What about Phoenix and Quinn?” I say, turning to Krypt. “Still driving the world crazy, one sarcastic comment at a time?”
