Unforgivably Broken (The Broken Series Book Two) (23 page)

The guy working
behind the desk handed me a form to fill out and I turned over my drivers license to him. My hand trembled visibly, almost hindering my ability to sign the paper after answering the questions. He slid a laminated sheet of paper to me that had the rules listed on it while he and Tish talked about ammo. My eyes blurred and I felt somewhat outside of myself, trying to focus on the words on the paper. When I finished, he asked if I had any other questions and I shook my head.

Tish paused before a door, pulling two pair of what looked like large, old-fashioned headphones out of the bag. “We need to put these on before we go in there.” I nodded, still feeling mechanical as I took a pair from him and pulled them over my ears. The hollow
effect of sounds seemed in tune with the entire experience.

Once he grabbed our targets, Tish pulled out a white card with a large number five written on it and tapped it against a sensor near the door. I followed him through two doors
, my chest becoming tighter the closer we got. When he stopped at the stall with a number five, I stayed back, leaning against the wall. Tish kept his back to me, pulling several things from the bag and lining them up on the counter.

I jumped at the sound of a gunshot from down the line, surprised at how loud it sounded even with the ear protection. Without realizing I had moved, I found myself beside Tish, putting his body between me and the other people in the room. He looked over
and handed me clear glasses, which I immediately put on.

“I’m going to show you both guns,” he said, leaning close to me as he spoke. He held up the long piece I knew was the clip. “The magazine holds your ammo. We’re going to load two bullets at a time until you get used to it. Okay?”

I nodded and he worked, showing me how to properly load the bullets into the clip, all the while keeping them aimed toward the far back wall. Once we were done, he moved on to putting the clips into the gun and removing them. The trembling in my hands seemed to start decreasing the more times I held the weapon.

Movement behind me caught my attention as Tish was explaining how the safety worked on his gun. I inched closer as three guys, laughing loudly, passed and headed down the lane toward one
of the other stalls. As the tallest one lifted his hand, I could’ve sworn I saw a familiar black and gold ring shining on his finger. “Hey.” I jerked in response to another gunshot and closed my eyes.

Breathe. Just breathe.

“Sorry,” I said, opening my eyes to a wary Tish. “I’m good.” I did my best to block out everything else in the room as I listened to his instruction. Once we had gone over the differences between his gun and mine, he took the clips out of both, pulling back the slide to show they were each unloaded before setting them on the counter.

He
then walked me through holding each one, the way I should stand, and how my hands should grip. It was a little nerve-wracking actually holding the gun like I was aiming it but I just reminded myself, over and over, that it wasn’t loaded. He showed me how to butt the gun against the soft skin between my thumb and forefinger for stability and where to wrap my left hand.

When we finished with that, he hung the target from the clips and sent it out about a quarter of the way up the long lane in front of us. He looked over at me to make sure I was watching. He loaded two bullets into the magazine for his gun and popped it into place. I watched his movements carefully and when he aimed, I thought I was prepared. The sound wasn’t that much louder than it had been from the other stations down the line but my knees nearly buckled. I leaned against the cushioned wall beside me, trying to be discreet as the panic clawed like a rabid creature inside me. When he fired the second shot, I jumped
, even though I was prepared. He sat the gun on the table and looked back at me as he moved to the side.

Swallowing down the fear, I stepped up, feeling him watch me as my jittery fingers fumbled
with the ammo for my gun. He put his hands over mine, forcing me to set both the magazine and the bullet on the table.

“Deep breath.
Stop letting the fear dominate you. This is about control. It’s about protecting yourself. Protecting Zane. Protecting Conner.” I felt an ache in my chest at the mention of Zane and Conner. Protecting myself, yes. Protecting them, definitely. The memory of holding Zane while we waited for the ambulance to arrive clouded my mind, reminding me of the very real danger and my own helplessness. Helplessness. It was a feeling I loathed.

I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat, forcing the panic down. “I can do this,” I said, my voice determined. Tish nodded, squeezing the hand he held briefly before releasing it, allowing me to resume loading the gun.

I pushed the magazine in place before wrapping my hand around the slide to chamber the first round. Tish was right to show me how to do this several times first. It felt almost natural now. Tish stepped behind me, reminding me to keep my wrists locked and my grip tight as I aimed for the target. I took a deep breath and held it for a moment as the target wavered in my sight.

Breathe
, Lili.

Another breath in and I slipped my index finger into place, surprised at how easily I tuned out the rest of the room. Squeezing carefully, I flinched as the gun went off in my hands. Tish chuckled behind me and I glanced over my shoulder, keeping my gun pointed at the target.

“You hit the paper. That’s good for your first time.” He pointed and I squinted to see the hole in the white of the paper, higher and to the right of where I aimed. I frowned. “You jerked. It’s a natural reaction to the kick. It’ll get easier as you get used to the gun.”

I nodded, focusing on the target. I aimed dead center of the chest again, taking a deep breath to steady myself before I fired my second shot. The kickback still made me close my eyes but when I opened them, I saw the tear through the black of the target, near the shoulder.
Closer.

We took turns, Tish loading his gun and taking two shots, and me doing the same. Eventually, Tish talked me into trying his. The recoil had me flinching again and my aim was way off. The forty
caliber was definitely more powerful than I was becoming used to with my smaller gun. I understood now why Zane had chosen a nine millimeter for me.

We’d torn through two boxes of ammo and two targets before we decided to call it a day. My aim wasn’t perfect
— hell, it wasn’t even good — but it was decent. I was consistently able to hit the body at two different distances. But the main point of the day was that I was smiling. It was terrifying how just a few short hours could make me comfortable with a weapon that nearly took Zane from me right in front of my eyes. In the back of my mind, I could still see just what it was capable of, but it wasn’t the gun that did that, it was Jordan.

I stared down at the small duffel bag stuffed full of bathroom necessitates, trying to keep my focus on making sure I had all of my essentials
, but my thoughts were scattered. In less than two days’ time, I would be in Texas again, back in Austin, a city I
never
wanted to set foot in again. I had a few things to handle before the trial started, mainly getting copies of my legal documents so I could get a valid ID. It was a hassle having to drive the more than twelve-hundred miles between Las Vegas and Austin but with airport security as tight as it was, there was no way I could get on a plane without a real ID.

Tish and
Kas would be here shortly with the rental car and they expected me to be ready to go. Kas was going to drive Tish’s car back to his house, that was the reason she gave for coming over today, but I knew she wanted to be with him as long as possible.

After another attempt
of going through my mental checklist became disrupted by my lingering fears, I growled and flung the bag off the counter. It made a loud and satisfying crash against the tile floor and in my rage, I shoved my arms out, knocking as much as I could off the counter before arms wrapped around me from behind. I screamed and thrashed against the hold, panic weaving with the anger.

“
Shhhhh. Calm down, Pixie. It’s okay, just breathe.”

It took several seconds for Zane’s words to register and the familiarity of the arms came to me as my mind cleared. I let out a sob and sagged against him. It was too much.
All of it. Jordan, Hunter, my family, the gun range, the news reports on the trial... I couldn’t handle it all.

“I can’t… I can’t…” I gasped, feeling the tightening in my chest as my rattled emotions settled back on panic.

Zane spun me in his grip, lifted me easily, and placed me on the counter of the bathroom. Both of his hands cupped my face. “Stop. Just breathe. Deep breath, baby. Come on.”

His hands were rough, shaking me to keep my attention as I did what he asked. I took a deep breath. And then another. Finally, my lungs didn’t feel like they were fighting against me any longer and my heart started to return to a normal rhythm.

“You can’t do that, Lili! Fuck. You can’t…” Zane ran his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated before he stormed out of the bathroom.

I dropped my head back against the mirror behind me, letting go of the tears I’d held in for last few days as my eyes drifted closed. My emotions were flying all over the spectrum and I didn’t know how to deal with it anymore. If it got worse when I was there, how would I cope?

When Zane stomped back into the bathroom, I peeked over at him. He snatched my duffle off the floor and slammed it onto the counter beside me. He held up Conner’s inhaler toward me without meeting my eyes before tossing it in the bag. He scrounged through the contents, grabbing my brush and a few other stray items that had either fallen from the bag when I’d thrown it or had been flung on the floor in my tantrum. He yanked the zipper closed and took the duffle with him as he left the bathroom. I sat glued to the counter, trying to figure out how to get a handle on myself.

After about fifteen minutes, I lowered myself off the counter and proceeded to slowly and meticulously pick up all the items I’d scattered, putting them away mechanically as I pulled the numbness I knew I had from the deepest part of me.
With Zane and I trying hard to be honest with one another, it had been a while since I’d hidden my emotions, but I needed to do this today. I couldn’t leave here, leave him, and let him worry that I might have a complete meltdown when he wasn’t there. I had to get it together. I could do this. I splashed water on my face, ignoring the blankness in my eyes. Nothing good could come from analyzing it right now. I’d found my mask and I needed it to stay in place until I was out the door with Tish, at the very least.

I heard the voices as soon as I pushed open the bathroom door and I paused, not making my presence known.

“You can’t do that, Zane. If you cancel the first mediation, you’ll be giving Lizzie more fuel and you know it. The lawyer already told you that. Plus, isn’t Lizzie’s ultrasound tomorrow?”

I frowned at Tish’s comment.
Lizzie’s ultrasound? Zane hadn’t mentioned anything about the baby to me since just after we moved in. He’d told me that the new paternity testing he was looking into was more expensive than he’d thought and he was still debating which way to go. Did he do a paternity test at some point and not tell me? I could see him doing something like that, keeping something like that from me right now because I was too fragile to handle it. The anger and resentment that I’d felt the night Lizzie had shown up at the house started to return but I pushed them back, clinging to my numbness with everything I had.

“Fuck. I can’t just send her away like this. She needs me.” Zane’s voice, and his words, caused a mixture of emotions. He worried about me but he was still seeing me as weak. I couldn’t really
blame him for that, I supposed. But that didn’t make me feel any better about it.

“You have to stay here and take care of your responsibilities. You just have to trust that
Lili is strong enough and even if she isn’t, you have to know I’ll be there. She’s going to be okay. Just the fact that she’s going there to do this, knowing she’s going to have to face the guy who did this to her, proves she’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for.”

I cleared my throat, ignoring the partially opened bedroom door as I moved to the bed under the pretense of checking my duffle bag. I grabbed Zane’s pillow from the bed instead of my own, feeling selfish but wanting his scent with me while I was so far away. It tore at me that I was this attached. I wasn’t used to this. I wanted to protect myself, protect my heart, and talk of Lizzie and the baby and random ultrasounds I didn’t know about added to my unease. But, honestly, it was far too late for my heart. That already belonged to Zane and I just had to hope he would take care of it.