by Flite, Nora
“I'm imagining you two shooting me over and over,” I mumbled. “That's how it works, right? Tiny, hard balls of paint slamming into me by guys who have way more practice with a moving target?”
“Practice, that's the word to focus on,” Jacob said.
“Also fun,” Kite added. He was stroking down my arm idly. “It'll be good to get outside and run around.”
I couldn't resist their charm. Sighing dramatically, I let my smile take over. “I'm all for it. Sitting here is getting old, anyway.”
If these hitmen said paintball could up my abilities, then I would listen. It wasn't about fun. It was about progress.
Purpose.
Though, I still worried that the two of them were about to destroy me in the game ahead. I'd never played paintball, and my gun experience was pretty small. Kite and Jacob were skilled killers. But with all their claims about fun...
How bad could this really be?
****
They drove us to a forested area not far from the shed Kite had taken me too.
This wasn't a professional range. This was me and them, alone in the woods. It had all the ingredients for a horror movie.
If they planned to kill me, now would be a good time for it.
It was disconcerting, the idea of them taking me out here just to end my life. I didn't believe they would kill me before finishing the job I'd given them, but that wasn't why I was upset.
I was nervous because I didn't want to die anymore.
Not ever. And not from them.
This was that dumb, wiggly thing they had grown in me. The desire for life, for a future—it was new and it was terrifying.
The car slowed to a halt on a path. “Here we are,” Jacob said, cutting the engine. We all climbed free, my sneakers crunching on dead leaves. March was coming, but it didn't feel like it.
Peeking around, I saw nothing but trees and brush. A barren land, all to ourselves.
“Here, come put this on.” Kite waved me over to the open trunk. Inside, I saw all the shiny gear and guns. The balls of paint looked like candy in their plastic cases.
Kite lifted a pair of goggles, helping me fit them on my head. When they were settled, he grinned and tapped me over the left eye. “The paintball guns are called 'markers.' Treat it like a real gun. Remember everything I taught you?”
“Definitely,” I said, holding out my hands. Lethal or not, I loved the idea of having some kind of weapon.
The 'marker' as he'd called it was big, but that was due to the tank of paint balls on top. Twisting it around, I tested the weight. My finger stayed away from the trigger; I really had committed everything Kite had shown me to memory.
“How bad is this going to hurt?” I asked.
Unzipping his jacket, Jacob set it in the trunk. The new one he slid into looked both smaller and more heavy duty. It was a mossy green color. “It will sting,” he said. “The goggles will keep your eyes intact. Otherwise, these won't do anything too terrible.”
Hands came down on my shoulders. “Do not,” Kite said, suddenly very serious, “Shoot me in the balls. Understand?”
That did it, I started giggling. Covering my mouth, I felt a flush of warmth over their teasing smiles. Maybe this really was going to be fun.
Hoisting the gun, I grinned. “Okay, tell me how this works.”
They took their time, explaining how to work the gun, and that each of us would get our own color of paint.
“If you get hit,” Jacob said, pushing lightly against my collar bone to mimic a flying ball. “We get one point. If you hit either of us, you get five points. We'll play to ten, that means you just have to hit us each once, or one of us twice.”
I swallowed the lump that had grown in my throat. Jacob hadn't removed his finger, I could feel its pressure through the jacket they had given me. “What are the points for?”
“To decide who wins.” His nail curved, dragging down my chest. Never too far, just enough to make my heart throb.
“But what does the winner get?” I asked warily.
Kite swayed into my vision, his handsome face sharp in its slyness. “Whatever they want.”
I had an idea what they wanted. The lust was shining in their eyes.
“It's all in fun,” Jacob said. His hand fell away, leaving a hollow itch where he'd been touching me. The cold air was a useful tool with them both around. “The threat of losing is just a motivator.”
“If I win, you'll really let me have anything?” I asked.
They were both adjusting their equipment, one mind shared by two different people. “Whatever your mind can conjure,” Jacob chuckled.
That was when I knew. They don't think I have a chance at beating them.
People like this, they didn't promise riches when it was obvious I'd ask for the moon. In a real wager, I would have demanded they promise—promise beyond a shadow of a doubt—that they would never hurt me.
Those skilled hands that made me moan, I didn't want them around my throat.
No bullets, no barrels, nothing. I didn't want to rely on my letter to keep them in check.
I wanted...
I wanted to trust them.
“You alright?” Jacob asked, his goggles hiding away the icy gaze I found so thrilling.
Lifting the gun, I nodded briskly. “I'm ready. Let's do this.”
We faced off in the middle of the clearing. Around us, the buzz of forest life was drowned out by my pumping blood. Jacob tapped his watch. “I'll count to five minutes. You should go and run, Marina. Hide from us. What you do after that is up to you.”
“You're giving me a head start?”
Kite was grinning, rocking from one foot to the next. “Sure. This is our handicap.”
I scrunched my forehead. “Isn't me only needing to hit you guys twice your handicap?”
Jacob's laugh was soft as velvet. “No, that's just us being fair.”
Remember, I told myself. They think this will be easy. I can see it in their smiles. My finger brushed the trigger of my gun. I hated being underestimated. I was a realist, but smugness—justified or not—fueled my determination.
My voice was flat, as emotionless as I could get it. “Good luck, boys.” Turning, I sprinted into the bushes without looking back.
Slinking through a dark forest while they chased me down was a nightmare in the making. I hadn't been killing in secret for years. I didn't have tons of practice under my belt like they did. But it didn't matter what outcome they predicted.
I refused to go down easy.
****
Leaning against the tree, I held the gun tight to my chest. Acid tore through my throat, my lungs. I kept seeing things move on the edges of my vision, shadows that played with me and taunted me. I wondered incessantly about where they were.
My jacket was heavy, it forced clammy sweat from my pores. The plastic of my goggles kept fogging up, I wiped the smudges away so I could see. How much time did I have left?
Peeking over my shoulder, I snuggled the rough tree bark and thought of my next move. If I was good at anything, it was hiding. I needed a place that would protect me from them, somewhere I could take aim and fire.
The pine trees were big, but unreliable. If I got too high up, I'd be trapped. Looking around, I checked my options; some boulders, lots of bushes, and a sloping hill on one side.
Heading towards the dipping ground, I got low and stretched on my belly. It wasn't perfect, but with the leaves and branches around me, I was hidden enough that they might not see me.
Breathing in tiny bursts, I stared fixedly off into the woods. My ears were on overdrive, trying to spot a single cracking twig. How sneaky were they? The idea of them prowling around in search of me was making my belly convulse.
Then again, was this so different from last night?
Together, they had hunted me down on the dance floor, attacked me with their seductive eyes and silky hands. I'd lost to them, though the results had been delicious.
I didn't want to lose ag
ain, not so quickly.
Movement; it was brief and in the distance. Every muscle knotted up in my body.
Crushing the gun, I stared at the area and watched for more. There, again, just a flicker, but reddish hair danced between the leaves. Kite was yards away, a rough shot to take.
Wait till he gets closer, I told myself. Aiming the paintball gun, I squinted and closed my left eye. Kite froze, as if he had heard my thoughts. Impossible, but it still made my brain tingle nervously. Wait longer. Just wait. You're fine, Marina, just wait.
I should have been more patient.
Pulling the trigger, the gun shook—the ball of red exploding from the canister. I knew it would miss, yet still, I prayed.
Kite stood tall, startling as the crimson splattered on the tree near his head. His eyes landed directly on my hiding spot.
Thudding with adrenaline, I tucked sideways, scrambling down the slope and bolting. Pain exploded behind my knee. It was brief, like a rubber band snapping. Wetness speckled my hand as another explosion hit me.
Gasping, I pumped my legs and kept going. Branches tore at my face, harming me more than the dumb paint balls. Faster! I commanded myself. My lungs argued, threatening to shred from how much I demanded out of them.
Sliding on some damp leaves, I skidded to a halt down a hill and into a ditch. Water soaked my rear, mud on my knees. I didn't care, my heart wouldn't stop racing.
Fuck fuck fuck. He was so quick! I'd missed my shot. That really got under my skin.
Twisting, I stared at the yellow staining my jeans. Wasn't Kite's gun supposed to shoot blue? Two shots, both from the same person.
Jacob.
Dammit, he must have been waiting for me to reveal myself. Kite was the bait.
This was unfair, they were in sync. One of them was enough of a challenge. Together, these hitmen would overcome me. I needed a plan, but what could I even do?
Nervously, I peered over the crest of the ditch. The woods were silent once more.
Kite was out there, I'd seen him. Jacob, though... I hadn't caught a glimpse, and still, he'd hit me twice.
This didn't feel like practice that was tailored to my needs. I couldn't see myself stalking the murderer I was after through the freaking forest. Kite had made it clear before; if I had to try and hit a moving target, I'd already messed up.
Why are they playing this game with me? What's the point of it? If it was actually for fun, they were the only ones enjoying it. I was too busy feeling like prey to think this was entertaining.
Are they actually trying to have a good time with me? The notion was startling. Me and them, just playing and not worrying about killing or not being killed.
A tiny sound tore me from my thoughts. Clinging to my gun, I sat up and stared so hard that my eyeballs throbbed. Where were they?
Again, a new sound, except it was to my right. I had to contort myself to look, my neck tweaking from the motion. They were circling to surround me, that had to be it!
For confirmation, a blue paintball popped open on my chest.
My hiding spot was a deathtrap.
Wildly, I fired at where I thought Kite was. I kept shooting, the canister vibrating and a helpless shout of frustration leaving me. This. Was. Not. Fair!
Scrambling through the mud, I fled away from the noise. If this was a movie, I would have spun around and hit them both while I backpedaled. But it wasn't a cinematic firefight, it was me, flailing desperately to not lose by a landslide.
Running as fast as I could, another burst of paint landed.
Blue color soaked into my thigh.
Good for them, they were even on points.
Panting heavily, I ducked behind a fat tree and leaned on the bark. Staying low had done nothing. Hiding hadn't helped. My 'plans' so far had been awful. They know they can hunt me down. This is what they're great at.
Holding my gun, I squinted at the plastic, bulging tube of paint balls. They were the size of marbles. What were they made out of? A possibility inched into my brain.
Shooting Kite and Jacob wasn't going to work.
But there was another method.
It might fail, but it was a chance. That was all I really needed. A single chance.
Twisting the plastic tank, I heard the balls clack together.
I knew how I could win.
- Chapter 26 -
Jacob
Kite and I could have ended this game already, but stalking Marina through the brush was unnervingly exciting.
Her first hiding spot had been pretty good. If she hadn't taken a shot at Kite, we might have struggled to find her.
I'd been crouched down on the higher part of the slope when she'd hit the tree near him. The brief, surprised look on his face had made me smile. He'd looked right at me afterward, hand in the air and two fingers held an inch apart. “This close,” he'd been saying without making a sound.
Marina had almost hit him.
Almost didn't count.
When she'd bolted, I'd casually lifted my marker and tapped her twice. Pop, yellow paint all over her legs. The color was bright, it made her even easier to follow after that.
The second round in the ditch, Kite had tapped her and evened things out.
Points wise, we were miles in the lead. This was a game with no real stakes, but I still intended to win. I always had.
Brushing my hair back, I knelt on the leaves and listened. Marina had darted off again, her jeans soaked from mud and paint. The crisp air was magical, it was humming with the energy of the hunt.
Abruptly, the calmness was shattered—Marina was shouting, firing in the distance. She wasn't far, her voice echoing through the trees
Standing up, I spotted Kite across the path. He was just as confused as I was. What was she shooting at?
Shaking my head, I slipped towards the racket. Her voice floated up, wary and strained. “Dammit! Fine! I'm out of ammo, guys! I don't know where you are... but I'm out.”
What? Had she been firing blindly at where she thought we were in the shadows?
The news deflated me. I hadn't wanted this to be over with so quickly. Call me twisted, but chasing this girl had my blood on fire.
I was bursting at the seams with a primal desire to stalk her down and claim her for myself. Now, she was announcing her early defeat.
Shoving a thorny bush aside, I exposed the stretch of land. There, in the dipped earth and surrounded by skinny branches, was Marina. Her gun was in one hand, she was facing away from me.
All around, the forest looked like a massacre. Red paint coated bark and rocks alike. It was good that the paint balls were non-toxic. It'd wash away in the next rain storm.
Kite stood on the other side, just out of her view. He watched me for instruction. I motioned for him to keep his gun trained on her. I hadn't counted her ammo, this could be a silly ploy.
Breathing through my nose, the noise—or maybe my piercing stare—alerted her.
Spinning, Marina's eyes bounced frantically. Finally, she spotted me. Instantly her arms lifted, the gun dropping to her feet. She was surrendering without a word.
Not a ploy, then, I thought in frustration. She really had just emptied her tank and lost. Seeing her with her hands in the air, wide-eyed and lips tight, I still found my smile taking hold.
Maybe the battle was over, but the fun wasn't.
“I thought you'd last longer,” I said, keeping my gun on her as I approached. I doubted she was fast enough to grab hers, but I wasn't taking chances. When I closed the gap, I kicked her weapon away casually. As close as I was, I could see the shine of sweat on her forehead. Her lips were trembling. “Why are you so quiet?” I asked, cupping her chin. “Are you nervous? Scared of what I'll ask for as my prize?”
Marina blinked, flicking her gaze from my gun, to my face. The girl who was so clever, so sassy; seeing her turned silent by my presence was... exciting. She could get me going by just existing near me.
Glancing sideways, I started to call out to
Kite. I was going to tell him the game was done, Marina couldn't fight back anymore without ammo.
She breathed in deep through her nose.
The sound pulled me back to her, thrilling my core. The dark centers of her eyes twinkled privately for me. Was she waiting for me to kiss her?
The smile she flashed was sudden; too satisfied, out of place. She pursed her lips.
A kiss wasn't what was waiting for me.
Wet, thick streams of red exploded from her mouth. They hit me on the cheeks and forehead, some staining the front of my jacket. When she was done, it dribbled down her grin and left her teeth gleaming like blood.
Jumping back, I rubbed at my face with a gasp. Into her open palm, she spit the remains of some gel capsules. “Two shots,” she said, wiping her lips with the back of her arm. She'd never looked more proud. “That was all I had to hit you with, right?”
Slowly, I rubbed at the paint on my face. It reminded me of this morning, the bloody nose Kite had given me. Today, everyone was getting me with cheap shots.
My smirk was tense. “That was very sneaky.”
She winked. “I learn from the best.”
From my right side, a loud, raucous laughter started. Both of us turned, watching Kite as he hugged himself and bent double. “Holy shit! She got you!”
Stepping back, I cleaned my face with my sleeve. “We lost, Kite.”
“So what?” He had tears in his eyes, a grin so huge it was contagious. “This is amazing. You need to see yourself, Jacob. Fuck, she got you good.”
In my mind's eye, I did see myself. I could watch them both and tell how silly I appeared. Me, the man who was so serious and calm, standing there with vibrant paint all over my face.
Once Marina started laughing, joining Kite, I felt my humor bubbling up.
The three of us, we shook and held our stomachs. Relief, it was glorious—the situation changing from tense to cheerful. I'd never predicted this. I was good at guessing outcomes, and I had failed.
It was a nice failure.
Watching Marina, her eyes crinkling at the edges from her laughter, my mood transformed. I thought of this morning, of last night. Beyond it all, the whole week.
This beautiful woman had morphed me. I'd been concerned, but now I felt something else.
