Page 25 of Blind Trust
Guilt pummeled Lyla for putting her mom on the spot, but she didn’t know what else to do. Left to Mason’s mother, they’d have been married years ago, with a brood of Davenports in tow by now. Lyla shuddered internally at the thought.
“Yes.” Lyla stepped in front of Mrs. Davenport, shielding her mom from the questioning stare. “It’s new.”
“Well, does the lucky young man have a name?”
Name? She hadn’t thought up a name. Why couldn’t she think of a name? How many times did she have to come up with a story in a pinch to do her job? But right now, staring into the determined eyes of a mother hell-bent on marrying off her son, Lyla couldn’t think of a single name.
“Nicolás.” Her throat went dry. Why had she said that? Her mother’s eyes widened, and heat clawed at Lyla’s neck.
“Nicolás?” There was suspicion in Mrs. Davenport’s tone.“Well, I sure look forward to meeting him. Will he be attending the hunt?”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. What had she done? Swallowing, she couldn’t think of any way to get out of this. “He will.”And he’s going to kill me.
9
The blast of the gunshot rattled his bones. Nic’s shoulder ached with the impact of the rifle’s recoil, but he ignored it and leveled the scope on the target. The paper silhouette in the form of a body was riddled with holes, but Nic had three more shots. He adjusted his aim as he focused on the reticle. After slowing his breath, he held it and pulled the trigger three times.
Pop.Pop.Pop.
The echo of the shots was muted through his ear protection, but the sound was as satisfying as the bullet shells flying out of the chamber and landing with aclink, clink, clinkon the cement floor of the gun range.
A soft tap on his shoulder drew his gaze back. Naomi smiled and thumbed to the soundproof viewing room behind them. Nic nodded.
Checking that his rifle was empty, he popped the clip out, set the safety, and laid the rifle on the high-top counter preventing shooters from going downrange. He pressed a button on the side of his cubby, and the electronic pulley system began moving his target to him.
Stiffness moved through his shoulders as he secured his weapon into its case and locked it. His muscles were still aching from his morning workout, and he knew he’d be swallowing some pain medicine after this, but coming to the range earlier than planned had been a good decision.
Especially after the situation with Lyla.
Situation.
Is that what it was between him and Lyla?Again.
The hurt in her eyes when he turned down her invitation was undeniable, but the way it deepened when he mentioned Naomi had struck him to the core. He didn’t think he could feel like a bigger putz—that is, until she returned to the office and spoke to Walsh before she went to her desk, grabbed her belongings, and left. Not looking at him once.
He wasn’t a complete idiot. Anyone else and he’d assume it was jealousy, but this was Lyla. She never expressed jealousy when it came to him. However, heat flooded his cheeks as he thought of the times he’d allowed annoyance—that’s what he was calling it—to flare through him whenever Lyla casually brought up her suitors. It was annoying because he thought she could do better. Thankfully, Lyla was nothing if not smart, and she usually figured it out quickly, allowing his annoyance to be short-lived. So then why was he picking up the vibe that Lyla was having similar feelings? It didn’t make sense.
The whirring mechanism stopped, and Nic glanced up at the target. A tight circle of shots cleared center mass, and the only evidence of the last three shots was a single hole in the silhouette’s head. Kill shots. All of them.
“Based off that target, I don’t really think you came here to qualify,” Naomi said when Nic walked into the lounge. She handed him a bottled water. “Aggression or frustration?”
Naomi Isaac’s frayed jeans and Zeppelin T-shirt gave her a youthful appearance that belied the maturity she carried for a twenty-nine-year-old explosives officer. She didn’t wear much makeup and didn’t need to, because her light black skin always seemed to glow with a confidence Nic rarely found in women her age.Like Lyla.
Nic’s previous thoughts tumbled around his head as they exited the range and walked through the parking structure toward theirvehicles. It wasn’t aggression he was feeling—maybe frustration or confusion. But he held back.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Naomi. He did. Her steady bearing made her a reliable teammate in the field, one he’d want by his side facing an IED. But talking about Lyla to another woman felt a little bit like he was betraying her.
“Wow.” She stopped at the back of her car. “Must be serious.”
“It’s not.” At least he didn’t think so. “I appreciate you meeting up with me this afternoon.”
After dropping Lyla off to get her rental, he had called Naomi to see if they could adjust their range time, hoping he could let Lyla know he was free to accept her invitation. But he never got the chance.
“Sure.” She opened her trunk, but before she could set her rifle bag inside, Nic reached for it. “Something in your voice told me you needed this.” She gestured back to the building. “And from the way you were shooting, I was right. You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Just some work stuff.” He felt safe admitting that as he set her rifle bag in the trunk and closed the door.
She leaned against her car. “I thought you liked working for SNAP.”
