“Did You Seriously Just Try To Shoot Me?”

“Watch out!” I scream, watching as the handblown glass chandelier crashes to the ground around him, pieces flying into the air and shattering across the tiles. I leap off the bed and run over to where Leo is sprawled on the floor, his face slashed by colorful Venetian shards. “Are you okay? Did it get you?”

“Did you seriously just try to fucking shoot me, Leo? Is that how you show gratitude?” An unfamiliar female voice jolts me, and my head pops up at the intrusion. Somebody is here.

My heart hammers, a sharp pain shooting down my right arm. Great. A heart attack is just what I need right now. In seconds, I might be dead anyway so this will save some time. I gather Leo in my arms, holding him tight. “Who the hell is out there?” I yell, backing Leo into the bedroom and grabbing the gun on my way. It must have fallen out of his hand when he slammed into the wall. I try to get a grip on it, but my hand won’t cooperate.

Leo groans, lifting a hand to his face. “No, don’t touch it,” I whisper. “It’s bleeding.”

Click. Click. Click.

I yelp, swinging Leo around the doorway and kicking it closed with my foot. I need to figure out how this freaking gun works!

A single, high-heeled sandal juts out, easing open the door. I look up, the pain now shooting through to my fingertips as I point the gun toward the raven-haired woman smirking down at us.

“Sweetie,” she says in a sultry voice, kneeling down in front of us. “Good effort, but unless you learn how to cock it first, you’re gonna take a bullet to the head.”


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