Another dedication to a sweet friend who has helped me with the historical resources because she knows all about historical romances of the last century with her great book she's just completed 😉. So this chapter is dedicated to @tomgaryens Thank you so much, sweetie 💕😘

'I'd catch a grenade for you

Throw my hand on a blade for you

...

Oh, oh, I would go through all this pain

Take a bullet straight through my brain

Yes, I would die for ya, baby

But you won't do the same.'

If my parents' refusal was a hard knock, this, before me, was a bullet straight into my heart, and I realized it wasn't the best day of my life; it was the worst.

There was already someone in Spencer's arms—an almost naked girl on top of his shirtless form, more exactly.

Too perfect to be true. I recognized the straight brown strands, but it did nothing more as I was getting swallowed whole by the pit that had formed inside, or maybe a chaotic overflow was escaping from it. I didn't know.

I didn't know anything anymore as I watched my only certainty crumble down before my eyes. Spencer and Dorothy forever...

Through all the unsure and painful times, Spencer had been my refuge, and now, I had nowhere to run to.

"DD! Wait, it's... it's not what you think!"

I finally glimpsed his wide eyes, also taking in that it wasn't only his shirt that was missing before I shook my head frantically as if it could erase the image in front of me, and it would all vanish; I would wake up in my bed, look outside my window and find that comforting smile.

But no, I could have never imagined something like that, not even in my worst nightmares, and Spencer's handsome figure in only underwear appeared too clearly, pulling me out of my stupor when he took a step towards me.

"Dorothy, you know I love you. I..."

Those were the last words I heard as I ran. I had no idea where, but I ran, away from the green hut, away from Spencer, away from everything until... I collided with a hard chest.

"Oh, sorry, are you okay?"

I shook my dizzy head again, though I didn't know if it was to form a 'yes' or a 'no'.

The voice might have been warm, and the hands steadying me by my shoulders considerate, yet I couldn't explain what was happening; I couldn't even breathe.

I just needed to escape, and that's what I did.

I ran again... until I was stopped again.

It was definitely my day!

This time, I didn't crash into something rock-hard, though. The obstacle was soft, spongy, and creamy.

My birthday cake.

"Oh my god!"

Strangely, the only things that appeared clear in the blur were the woman's wide aghast eyes in front of me—as she, too, looked on the brim of tears—along with the children's laughs, which now resonated sinisterly inside the emptiness of my chest.

"I'm so sorry, I—"

"It's okay, I—"

"Dorothy!"

The woman's eyes almost popped out as she realized it had been the name written on the large birthday cake and that was now either on my white dress or on the ground.

Anyway, I didn't stay to find out, or even explain to the poor woman that it wasn't her who had ruined my birthday, as Spencer was already running in my direction.

Luckily, he'd had to put his pants back on, so it had given me a small head start, but I couldn't risk losing it because he was the best of his football team, and I knew him too well—maybe not that 'well' actually—to guess how fast he could catch up with me.

It couldn't happen. I didn't want to see him or hear any of his excuses. Everything had been too clear as the scene was replaying again and again in my head.

He'd been laying almost naked with my cousin, who was known for sleeping around.

That was why I ran faster than ever while everything blurred outside.

I didn't know which ways I was taking, only that they would lead me away from any voices and noises of my birthday party, and particularly Spencer's.

At every turn, I chose the narrowest, shadiest, and most cluttered path to be sure I could make Spencer lose my track. Though as my sight was misting through my tears, I mainly went with my instincts.

The incessant flow only stopped with my feet when I couldn't run anymore, my lungs searing painfully, more from the emptiness than from the lack of oxygen.

Thus, before even taking a deep breath, I blinked furiously to clear my gaze and make sure Spencer wasn't following me anymore.

He wasn't. I was alone, and as I tried uselessly to calm down the sensation of my chest being torn apart and constricted with every breath, I took in the surroundings of this empty, deserted crossroad.

The sun was still beating down as brightly as minutes ago at the park, yet there were imperceptible shadows in the dilapidated facades around, and something gloomy and cold was filling the warm air. It wasn't only due to my grim mood, but it fitted it.

The East area of the town, even before my eyes found the warped and riddled with bullets sign, I knew it.

It was so different from the perfectly aligned and similar houses of our neighborhood and from the colorful shop fronts of the center.

Here, the few shops—car repair shops, bars, and factories mostly—looked like abandoned warehouses, and the row of houses I glimpsed on my right all had a wobbly part from their doors to their gates or even their walls, so they were even less lined up between themselves.

I would have thought I'd entered a different world, if I hadn't crossed those streets by bike on a few rare times where I'd disobeyed my parents' advice because Spencer and I had been running late and couldn't take the bypass.

'Never wander around this side of the town, especially not alone.'

'No one will ever know. Promise. Spencer and Dorothy forever, even in trouble.'

My fingers lashed out on whatever was in my palm as I tried to get these people out of my head and keep the tears inside. But even if the flimsy texture was shriveling in my fist, the familiar voices were growing louder, and the eerie silence around wasn't helping.

Apart from the faraway barking of a dog, it could have passed as a ghost town, and only the whirring of a car approaching managed to rise above the brouhaha inside as I jumped and glanced frantically around.

With my blurred gaze, I could barely make out the black car body, and I shivered as the car drove by me, way too slowly. However, even if I couldn't see the driver, I let out a breath because it wasn't a green car. At least, for now.

This crossroad was too exposed. I needed to find a better refuge. Yet all the ones that crossed my mind were places Spencer would go to.

As for the ones my gaze crossed around, from the edge of the wood at my left to the bar farther behind me, which I doubted would serve my favorite milkshakes, they weren't places where 'a young lady should go'.

My mom's voice was echoing again, urging me to turn back, although I didn't know from which way I'd come, when a sliver of light caught my eye.

It was merely a ray of sun reflecting on what I realized was a metal wind vane as I peered up. Nevertheless, I found so much more when I lifted on my tiptoes: a wooden sign beyond the building in front, and mostly, certainty as a familiar whisper replaced my mom's sermon.

After one quick glance at the blue sky above, I took in the envelope I still had in my hand, and even if the paper was crumpled and torn, its content tickled my fingers with the power and freedom I'd sought so much, and it still looked usable.

So I wiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand, and I chose the path heading slightly to the left and forward.

I was in front of the large building when my gaze finally cleared completely, and the first thing that caught my now-dried eyes was the same sign.

The work of the wood was fine, and whoever had done it must have been careful and passionate about his work; anyone could guess it easily, just like there was no doubt what this place was for from the large symbol. It was almost hypnotizing how each detail of the item was perfectly engraved to represent it accurately.

But I wasn't here to admire art. I was here to find something else than void to fill my chest, and hopefully, it would be past that sign, behind the metal door, which appeared less welcoming.

Still, with one last glance around to make sure there was no one—and I probably looked like a criminal on the run—I didn't hesitate to open the door and enter.

First, because whatever was behind the creaky door couldn't be worse than the image I had been shot with at the green hut. Secondly, from what I could see, it was the perfect place to hide, and it wouldn't be the trees, either standing tall, in logs, or in planks, that would tell on me. Finally, it was the only place that could bring me some familiarity and comfort, as strange as it could appear on the outside.

The inside looked much better than the outside, though. Well, it wasn't luxurious or shiny, but what seemed to be the entrance hall was quite clean and neat, and although my eyes needed a few seconds to adjust to the contrast of lighting, as the walls were all made out of dark wood, and there was only one small window looking out onto the forest, I quickly spotted what I was here for.

It wasn't complicated, since there weren't many items in the simple room: only a counter, and the metallic objects, which seemed to attract all the faint lights on the wall behind—oh, and also, a large bearded man standing between the two. 

I only noticed him when he lifted his head from the magazine in front of him, and even so, it looked to be more of a shock for him than for me.

The small glasses on the tip of his nose almost dropped with his jaw when he saw me, and as his wide eyes traveled down my petite figure, I became aware of a detail I hadn't thought about: my appearance.

I could solely glimpse the disgusting brown stain all over my stomach and chest, but this, associated with puffy red eyes, and tears-strained, run-sweaty cheeks, surely wasn't a sight he encountered every day in his business.

"Hello." I tried to fill the awkward atmosphere, yet the cracks of my voice betraying the emptiness tearing me apart had the opposite effect.

"Um, hi... In what can I help you?" the man spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, as if he were talking to a stranger in a different language.

"Well, we're in a shooting range I think, so I came here to shoot."

This time, he took off his glasses to make sure they didn't fall off. However, if I'd been him, I would have been worried about his eyes, which almost popped out of their sockets.

"Um, I... I'm 18, so I legally can."

Despite his still lifted eyebrows, the man's brown gaze wasn't judgemental or hostile, so I walked closer to the counter, and I rushed to find my ID in the purse that I'd luckily put across my shoulder, in spite of my mom's advice, because otherwise, I would have probably lost it in my rush to escape.

Then again, once the paper was on the counter, he barely glanced at it, and I wasn't sure if I liked or not the compassionate smile I guessed through his grizzled beard.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have semiautomatic rifles today. My nephew took them for the annual check."

Okay, I hated that sympathetic smile. It resembled too much all the perfect arguments and pathetic excuses people had given me to deprive me of what I wanted. But not anymore.

"I see you have guns just right here." I pointed to the shiny pieces of metal on the wall behind him as they attracted my gaze like magnets.

"Yes, I do, but they're automatic handguns, and it's only for people over 21. Believe me, I'd love to rent them to you, but it's the law, and I don't want trouble with the cops." He rolled his eyes, and his many tattoos and his whole appearance surely shouldn't have inspired me trust, yet he wasn't hiding himself in all of this, and something told me it was the truth.

It didn't help my case, however, and the result was the same. Today, which has been supposed to be the best day, the start of many opportunities, only left me facing dead ends.

"Please, don't you have just one? Or can't you make a little exception? I promise I won't tell, I-I just really need..." I stopped in a breath as my voice cracked like a warning sign, announcing the tears coming back, and I didn't need them, when the pitiful expression of the large man was already too much.

"No, but my nephew should be back in a few hours." He glanced at the clock behind him, which I hadn't noticed between all the guns. "You can come back tomorrow, or even later tonight."

"I can't. Please, I promise I won't tell anyone."

The thought of 'coming back' made me shake my head frantically as the tears were now climbing back behind my eyes.

I had nowhere else to go, and nothing else to calm down the chaos inside. I was barely holding the tears with the tightening grip of my hand.

My hand, I realized I still had something in my hand, and I pulled out two crumpled bills, sliding them along the rough surface of the counter like my best asset, my last hope.

"Please, can't you make a little exception?"

His gaze followed my movements, though it seemed to be more the shakes of my hand than what was under. So I added another 'please', lifting my innocent puppy eyes, which were probably glistening again.

If I was pathetic and ridiculous, it might as well have been useful. I had lost my dignity somewhere in the park anyway.

"Did I mention it's my birthday today?" I pushed both my ID and the bills closer to him, trying my best to form a light smile, and from his heavy sigh, as he put back on his glasses, I knew I could only expect two things: either he would throw me out, or maybe he would give in?

"Okay."

I jumped in a mix of excitement, relief, and mostly surprise that something was finally turning out well today.

"But only for today, and you don't tell anyone." Despite his gruff tone, I could have hugged him as he put a handgun on the counter, his brown eyes and his round belly making him appear like a teddy bear in this instant.

"Yes, yes, thank you!" I pretended to lock my lips with my fingers, the latch instantly falling in a gape when he pushed back my money on the counter.

"Keep it."

His thick beard couldn't hide the hint of a smile forming in front of my excitement and the hundreds of thank yous I repeated as he led me to the firing lanes.

In fact, it was the last thing I saw clearly because the second I found myself alone, it all became a blur again.

My only points of reference were the cold metal in my hand and the target in front of me: a simple black and white circle, as the same scenes, the same images, the same words were replaying before my eyes.

Each time they appeared, I shot.

The gunshots were coming one after the other, and my ears were ringing with the deafening sounds, but at least, I didn't hear the painful bangs of my heart. It was much more effective to let out all the distress and nothingness inside than the tears.

I wasn't powerless.

Though even as I got rid of all the thoughts tearing me apart one by one—and there were a lot of gunshots—the thrill of hitting the tiniest circle was still getting lost somewhere inside my chest.

I surely should have ceased the fire. My reason was telling me to go back home and make things right, fill the hole inside with 'all the people that had come especially for my birthday'.

Yet I didn't, and I shot faster to silence my mom's speech and erase the familiar pair of light brown eyes that flashed through my mind at the word 'home'.

"I wouldn't like to be the one you're picturing right now!" An unknown voice arose above the bangs of the gun and in my chest as my heart and the rest of my body jolted. 

Hadn't this person been taught to never surprise someone who had a gun in hand?

They were lucky I had good reflexes, and the bullet just ended lost in the bullet trap. Nevertheless, my fingers were tickling on the trigger when a hoarse chuckle echoed around, the short sound holding enough mischief to let me guess the man had done it on purpose.

"No, you wouldn't," I replied dryly before hitting the trigger several times, still towards the target though.

It was the best way to make boys go away, afraid for their lives, or even worse, their egos.

Except this one apparently, and when there was no bullet left, his voice echoed again, slightly louder.

"You're new here?"

This time, he was really lucky that the gun wasn't loaded because I was sure I'd hit the trigger when I turned towards him.

Though if my breath was lost somewhere in my throat, the guy was walking confidently, slowly and confidently, almost in a predatory gait, towards me and my pointed gun.

"I've never seen you around." He pushed the tip of my gun down with one finger as he arrived in front of me, and I tried the best I could to pull out of the state of shock he'd put me in.

I didn't know why. Maybe because I wasn't used to meeting this kind of people, and the residents from the Eastside were as different as their neighborhood.

Sure, he had no beard or large belly like the owner, yet he was displaying way more tattoos and an aura of danger that could be felt from miles away, and he was barely two feet away from me.

"No, but it's my first time here—coming here," I quickly corrected as my eyes lifted to be met by a devious smirk stretching his lips, which I was front row to see with my 5'1 height.

He was tall, and handsome, and he knew it.

"You're clearly not a virgin... with a gun, I mean."

I found back my breath, and I was currently choking on it as his penetrating eyes were glued to every inch of my face, probably enjoying the gradation of color that went from pale pink to bright crimson, while I could only avert my gaze down to the gun in my hand.

I had already seen handsome guys, arrogant guys, but he... he was unique, and nothing like anyone I'd ever met before. He was... a sharp contrast; that was the word to describe him.

He was probably around my age, surely over 18, since he was here alone, and if I could compare him to someone, where Spencer was smooth and gentle, from his strong chest to his warm smile, and his chocolate curls perfectly harmonious with his light brown eyes and light golden skin, this guy in front of me was the contrary.

Everything about him was sharp and contrasting, from his tall and lanky figure to the dark tattoos standing out on his white skin, and even to the way his raw words were rolling off his tongue. It looked almost surreal how hard his square jaw was while his smirk was easy, and how his dark slicked hair was accentuating his clear eyes.

His eyes, they were the most magnetizing in his whole appearance, their clear shade of blue turning transparent as they showed clearly his intentions, and they were all wicked.

He was trouble. I knew it, but for once, it wasn't my conscience speaking; it was a feeling deep inside, my instincts maybe.

Whatever it was, I turned away from his hypnotizing gaze, occupying my fingers with the loading of the gun as I shrugged.

"Maybe it's beginner's luck."

"I don't believe in such things." He walked around me, coming to stand on my right side, where my arm was already lifted to aim, and this time, there was definitely less than a foot between us.

Even if I didn't dare to throw a glance at him, I could sense his whole presence invading my space, his piercing gaze shaking my nerves.

Yet my hand wasn't trembling as I shot again.

I could have aimed badly and proved him wrong, but all the bullets ended perfectly in the center of the smallest circle, something in his devious smile spurring me, despite all the shivers he created along my skin making it harder to focus.

No, actually, it wasn't shivers. It was sparking like the trail of powder into the gun that traveled each time I pulled the trigger, and I used all my ammunition again, always aiming perfectly with a lot of 'luck'.

Only when I was done, did I risk looking at him, and as expected, his smirk hadn't faltered. On the contrary, a dimple was now supporting the sly grin on its right side, while his eyes were still following all my movements in silence, as if I were a new intriguing species.

Well, I didn't doubt I must have been quite a rare specimen, and soon it would be the attraction around: the petite girl with puffy red eyes, who was shooting faster than her shadow.

Still, he didn't seem to pay attention to my ridiculous attire because, despite their mischievous glint, his eyes held no hint of mockery. In fact, it was like he was seeing beyond that, stripping me of my clothes—that, I had no doubt—but maybe even deeper than skin the longer he stared at me, and I couldn't let him reach the chaos inside.

"Aren't you supposed to go to your booth? You know, to shoot and do what you're here for." I tried not to sound too rude, though my voice was as tense as the rest of my body, and I was crippled when he replied,

"I came here for you."

For her?! 👀👀 Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger again, especially as I'm going on vacation and won't be posting for 2 weeks 🥺 But believe me, you'll need all this time to prepare for this bad boy 😈😏 

The chapters coming when I come back are definitely some of my favs so far 😍😉

So in the meantime, don't forget to vote⭐ and comment if you liked this chapter, and also add the book to your library/reading list and follow me to know when I'm back 😘

Also, IMPORTANT, let me know what you think of this bad boy so far? 😏😈 All your thoughts about him! 

And the other characters we got introduced to? Each character is important for the story, so be attentive to every detail 👀🤭

Finally, were you expecting this from Spencer and Diane? Some of you had guessed! And Dorothy and her gun? Is it only beginner luck? 🤔

I'll let you think about all of this, and I promise I'll come back soon! I love you, my little rays of sunshine, and I already miss you 😘💕🌞