Surge (42 page)

After Olivia shows us a new technique to practice, which is pinning someone’s arms down like she did to me out front; she walks over to join Leonard on the couch. The two then observe us and point out mistakes someone might be making like a pair of boxing trainers, and Olivia goes to correct them.

I’m fine with Leonard being bosom friends with Olivia. It’s actually an extremely positive thing for Olivia to click with someone other than Cory, but that old bastard better not be trying to do what I suspect. Like right now, he’s discreetly motioning toward Tommy as he talks to her, like he’s trying to push her toward his grandson in favor of gaining her as a granddaughter; just as he threatened to do back at the condo. I don’t fucking think so.

I break away from sparring with John and jog over to my water bottle, which is conveniently located within two feet of where the pair is sitting. I didn’t do it on purpose, honest. Alright, I might have placed my bottle there after I seen them sitting together on this very couch, but how was I supposed to know that it would allow for easy eavesdropping? So here I am, taking slow, tiny sips of water to replenish my sweating body; while paying close attention to their exchange.

“I’m all he has left,” Leonard says.

“I know how that feels,” she replies. “I don’t know what I’d do without Cory.”

“Then you can see why I’m worried about him,” he says. “I’m getting old and won’t be around forever, so what’s going to become of him if he doesn’t open up more? He’s going to wind up alone, and angry at the world. It’s not healthy.”

“Hey,” Olivia says with an offensive hand on her chest. “You got a problem with how I live?”

“You know what I mean,” Leonard says as he waves his hand at her and Olivia nods.

The old coot is trying to set her up with his grandson. The sly bastard better up his game since I’m willing to go head to head for her. Bring it on old man, bring it on.

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~>

I’ve been upstairs for three hours. I’m sitting uncomfortably on the chair in one of the two bedrooms, since John the Jock Strap and I flipped for the bed, meaning I lost. Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep, but since I can’t, I give up on sitting up here in the dark. Stepping over Danny’s sleeping form, no way in hell was he getting anywhere near Sarah on my watch, I leave the bedroom and go downstairs. The couches are filled with sleeping people, so I tiptoe quietly toward the kitchen to scrounge up some coffee.

While waiting for it to brew in the percolator, I feel a draft and look for the source. Following the breeze, I find a door propped open with a can, I’ll let you connect the dots as to who put it there. Once the coffee’s done brewing, I grab two mugs, sugar and the pot before approaching the door. Juggling the contents in my arms, I manage to free a hand to grab the can and slip through.

I make sure to replace the soda can to where it was, then walk down the creaky stairs. There’s no missing my arrival, so I don’t even bother trying to lighten my steps. When I reach the bottom, I see a light coming from the back left corner. Walking around the row of shelving that divides the unfinished area, I find Olivia lining up her sights with an apple.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” she warns. I set the coffee down on a crate in the corner, before turning to face her.

“Why not?” I inquire.

“Because you should be sleeping,” she answers.

“So should you.”

“Tell that to my brain,” Olivia mutters. “You see Mouth, my brain’s a lot like you. I keep telling the ugly bastard to shut up, but does he listen? Of course not.”

“Ouch,” I say and raise my hand in mock offense. “I’m ugly, and I don’t shut up, whatever will you do with me?”

She mutters something like
‘I haven’t a fucking clue,’
but it’s lost with the sound of the gunshot. I look back in the direction of the apple, expecting to find nothing left but blasted skin, except it’s completely whole. I look at the wall behind it and see that it too is in the same condition.

“Where the hell did it go?” I ask.

“You’re guess is as good as mine,” she says with a shrug.

Images pop into my head. At the sporting goods store, she had a gun and refused to use it because it
‘made too much noise.’
During the raid, she again refused to use her gun, saying she could defend better with her knives and machete. I’ve never once seen her fire her gun. And then there was that comment Cory made about her aim. He wasn’t referring to her knife throwing, that’s for damn sure.

“You can’t shoot,” I blurt out. Her eyes snap to mine as she lowers the gun and flicks the safety. She rechecks it twice, before finally setting it down.

“The fuck I can’t,” Olivia replies and raises her chin.

“Let me rephrase that,” I say. “You can pull a trigger, but you can’t hit the target.”

“Wanna try, and find out?” Olivia asks and raises her gun at me. I’m not falling for her false bravado, and I just seen her obsessively lock the gun, so I’m safe.

“Sure,” I answer and her eyes widen. “I’ll just go stand over there by the apple, hold it up, and you can try to shoot it.” I walk over with a severely casual gait, pick up her strange target, and hold it with my extended right hand. “Go on.”

Olivia’s biting her lip in a sign exposing her nerves. Grabbing the gun, she unlocks the safety, sets her stance and aims. I wait with bated breath as she takes a deep breath of her own, exhales, and lowers the weapon. Again with the obsessive locking, she places the gun back on the table with extreme caution.

“I-I can’t shoot,” she admits in a shaky tone. “I tried and tried, but I could never get it.” Gripping her hair, she gives it a tug. “I can’t fucking do it. Even after everything, I still can’t fucking do it!”

She’s shouting by the end and near tears. Setting the apple down on the table, I walk over to her slowly and raise my hands slowly to her shoulders. I give her plenty of time to stop me, but she doesn’t, so my hands make contact with the leather jacket on her shoulders.

“It’s alright,” I say in a calm voice. She shakes her head violently.

“It’s not fucking alright,” she snaps. “I need to be able to shoot.” Olivia reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a single bullet. “I need to be able to shoot this bullet, into his fucking head.”

I glance at the bullet with the sole purpose of killing someone, and want to know why it was chosen; since it obviously was, if she carries it around like that. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but it means something to her, and I can finally help her with something. And you know I’m going to jump all the fuck over that opportunity.

“I can teach you.”

“You can’t,” Olivia replies. She gives a slight shake of her head and puts the bullet back into her pocket with a reverence that I still don’t understand. “I’m unteachable.”

“No you’re not,” I disagree. “Everyone can learn with a good teacher.”

“Well, that ship has sailed,” she says. “I had two teachers, and neither was able to get me to shoot within three feet of a target with four months of training.”

“Well, they weren’t me,” I counter. “I could do it.”

“What makes you so confident?” Olivia asks with doubtful eyes.

“I’m Mouth, remember?” I ask. “He had confidence in spades, and never shuts the fuck up; so if you don’t say yes, I’ll just keep pestering you until you give in.” Olivia laughs, but I know that she’s softening.

“I always did have a thing for Mouth,” she mutters with a smirk.

“I thought you said I’m ugly,” I say and she laughs.

“Fucking hideous, is more like it,” she revises. “I mean, aqua eyes? Puh-leaze, it is so overplayed, it’s ridiculous. That hair that can’t decide if it wants to be black or brown? Has it ever seen a brush? It looks like you roll out of bed, say
‘good enough
,
’
and leave it. You’re square jaw. When’s the last time it was shaved? There’s over a week’s worth of scruff growing there, you lazy douche. And then there’s that mouth that you’re so good at using. It’s way too full for a guy. So, fugget about it, you’re the ugliest bastard I’ve ever seen.”

I can’t help but grin at that. She finds me attractive. It’s not much, but it’s certainly a start. Attraction is definitely going to be a factor that works in my favor. And if that attraction is anywhere near the obsessive level that mine is for her, then I may be able to lure her into trusting me faster, hence physical contact being possible. Because the first thing I’m going to do, is kiss those lips the way they were meant to be. I shake my head and get back in the game. There won’t be any kissing until the groundwork is laid, so step one commences.

“So, are you going to learn how to shoot or what?” Olivia peers at me with her grey eyes for several seconds, before placing her shaking hand out in front of her. I give it a quick, but firm shake, and release it.

“When do we start?” Olivia asks, and I cast a quick glance around the basement. This room could definitely work, and I don’t think I could sleep with my heart racing with excitement, so why not?

“Now, if you want to,” I propose. I can see that’s the answer she wanted to hear, when her face lights up.

“If that’s alright with you, it’s fine with me,” she says to be polite. But I know that if I were to beg off right now, she’d probably knock me on my ass, and drag me to do her will. And I’d most definitely be doing whatever she wanted, without the need of a threat as an incentive.

“It is, now show me what you know.”

Olivia takes a breath, before approaching the table. Picking up the gun, she checks the safety, lifts it, and sets her stance while saying the steps aloud like a mantra. “Shoulders relaxed, arms extended, lock your elbows. Feet shoulder length apart, stare down your target, deep breath in, and squeeze the trigger on the exhale.”

I check her position, it’s good, but needs some adjustment and that presents the first hurdle. I need to touch her in order to fix it. Taking a breath of my own, I release it, square my shoulders and face the firing squad.

“Olivia, I’m going to have to adjust your stance slightly,” I say and she nods. I don’t think she gets it, so I explain. “I’m going to have to touch you.” She spins so fast, that I almost get dizzy for her, and lifts her eyes to glare at me.

“Of fucking course!” Olivia exclaims. “I should have known, just another asshole looking to cop a feel. Fuck this, and fuck you!” She goes to push past me, but I hold up my hands and give her a glare of my own. That either surprises, or scares her, because her eyes widen and she takes a step back.

“I do not want to cop a fucking feel,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe you could even think that.” I shake my head in disgust. Not at her, at the fuckers who made her this way. “Your shoulders were tense, and it was causing your aim to be off. Then there’s the fact that your feet weren’t shoulder length apart, and your hands on the grip weren’t lined up right. So, excuse the fuck out of me for actually trying to teach.”

Spinning away from her, I start stalking out of the basement. Fuck this. If the first mention of me placing a finger on her makes her defensive, how the fuck am I supposed to teach her? Never mind win her over. I’m still fuming as I stomp away, so I almost miss Olivia say something.

“J-Jared,” her voice wobbles. “I’m s-sorry. Please come b-b-back.”

When I don’t immediately respond, because I’m busy trying to fight off the urge to fist pump, I hear her quiet steps darting around the shelving. I turn in time to see her come to a halt and start fidgeting with her gloved hands on her sleeve. She takes a deep breath, but won’t meet my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” she says quietly. “I’m a little sketchy when it comes to strangers.”

“Ya think?” I ask and she bites her lip. She’s trying, so I’ll meet her halfway. “I think that everyone is sketchy of strangers.”

“Not you,” Olivia counters. She finally looks up and points her finger at the stairs. “You’ve brought in a group full of people, what do I have?” She shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I know what I have, even I don’t like it, but it is what it is.”

“You have Cory,” I reply. “It’s obvious that you guys love each other.” Olivia smiles at that. “And Leonard seems fond of you.” Her smile turns shy.

“I’m rather fond of him myself,” she whispers.

“He tends to grow on you,” I agree. “Like mold, but it’s still there.” She laughs a little. “And I think that you and I are more than strangers. I mean you’ve been with us for days, so you must feel a little bit comfortable, right?” She nods. “Good, it’s a start.”

“So, you’ll still teach me?” Olivia asks, and I swear I see her hold her breath.

“Of course,” I answer. “Now, get your lazy ass over there, and shut the hell up. I’m beginning to think that you’re the real Mouth here.” Olivia salutes at me, but I catch her smile, before she skips back to the corner. I keep my steps deliberately loud so that she knows when I come up behind her. “Set your stance.” She does and I wait for her to settle before continuing. “I’m going to have to touch your shoulders and feet, nothing else, alright?”

“O-okay,” she says with a stiff nod. I raise my hands slowly and place them gently on her shoulders. I feel her stiffen.