The Gangster and His Beauty - Gangsters in Love Series

12

I haven't touched my phone since returning to the Twilight Residence. Not even when the screen brightens up after fully charging. Or the fainting vibrating on my desk telling me I have a message. I'm too scared that touching it means Troy is going to tell Gael and ruin my plans.

My phone vibrates and I take it. I glance at the scream and manage to read: Why aren't you answering? Before I stuff it under my pillow. I know my parents must be worried–more than worried since it's been almost a month now since uncle Bobby's death and they are probably just finding out and trying to contact me.

Today, I took the time to relax in the backyard.I stretched out on the lounge chair, relishing the soft warmth of the afternoon sun on my skin. The backyard is vast, with meticulously manicured low-cut grass that invites barefoot strolls. The air is sweet with the scent of blooming flowers, and the distant hum of bees creates a soothing soundtrack to my tranquil escape.

I settle myself on the cushioned surface, feeling the familiar comfort beneath me. Closing my eyes, I let the sunlight kiss my skin, imagining the worries of the world melting away with each passing moment. But as I begin to drift,  a sudden disruption jolts me from my reverie. Gunshots. My eyes snap open, and my heart skips a beat. I sit up, scanning my surroundings with wide eyes, searching for any signs of danger. Silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond the backyard.

Still, I see nothing unusual. No frantic movements, no people fleeing in panic. It's as if the world outside remains blissfully unaware of the sudden interruption to my solitude. Taking a deep breath, I lower myself back onto the lounge chair, determined to reclaim the serenity that was so abruptly stolen. The warmth of the sun embraces me once more, its golden rays soothing my nerves. I let out a sigh of relief, letting the tension seep away with each passing moment.

And then, just as I'm on the verge of slipping back into my peaceful state, the gunshots return, louder this time. My eyes fly open, and my body tenses with alarm. The shots are closer, disturbingly close. Panic flares within me, and I leap to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest.

Fear grips my senses as I frantically scan the backyard. My mind races, contemplating the best course of action.The I hear clapping in the distance.  I decided to check out where the noise is coming from. I take a leisurely stroll through my backyard, enjoying the cool breeze that caresses my skin. The vibrant greenery and colorful flowers fill my senses with delight, casting a veil of tranquility over the familiar surroundings. But as I round the corner, my eyes catch something peculiar—a door. An open ground door, to be precise. I furrowed my brow, my curiosity piqued.

I approach the open door cautiously. It seems out of place amidst the natural beauty of my backyard. The latter sentiment tugs at my heart. I cannot ignore the nagging feeling that someone might be down there (damn, screw my mind conjuring up scenarios that might not be true).

I take the first step down the dimly lit staircase, the air grows heavy with anticipation. The sound of my footsteps reverberates against the concrete walls. My heart races in my chest, a mix of apprehension and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I brace myself for whatever lies ahead.

Finally, I reach the bottom and my eyes widen at the scene before me. It's not what I expected. I find myself looking at the  gang engaged in what appears to be target practice. They fire shots with calculated precision, their aim fixed on dummies that sway with each impact. Apparently, my presence was not hard to miss. I spot one of the gang members who stops shooting.

"Hey, boss, look who's here."

The gang members exchange glances, their guns momentarily forgotten as they assess my intentions. The air crackles with uncertainty, but gradually, a hint of trust flickers in their eyes. One of them, Gael, stops shooting and turns to  me. He wears a smirk on his lips.

"I was expecting you'd show up."

"Yeah, I heard shots and thought you were killing someone down here. What is this place even?" I look around.

"We're doing target practice. Care to join us?"

"I don't do guns."

"Where you are headed, you might need to know how to shoot a bullet or two."

I cross my arms with a huff. "Is that so?"

I watch as Gael approaches me, a confident smile playing on his lips. "Want to train with me?" he asks, extending his hands towards me. I raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and skepticism crossing my features. I glance over at the gang members, their faces still wearing expressions of intrigue and curiosity.

Crossing my arms, I consider Gael's proposition. Part of me is hesitant, unsure if I want to immerse myself in this unexpected world of firearms and target practice. But another part of me, fueled by a thirst for new experiences, yearns to step outside my comfort zone. I release a slow breath, deciding to embrace the opportunity that lies before me.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Rather than taking Gael's outstretched hand, I reach for the gun he's offering. I hold it delicately, feeling its weight in my grasp. The cold metal sends a shiver up my spine, a stark contrast to the warmth of Gael's hand as it gently wraps around mine.

I steady myself, focusing on the target ahead. With a deep breath, I take aim and squeeze the trigger. The gunshot resonates in my ears as the bullet finds its mark, hitting the target's arm. A surge of exhilaration courses through me, mingling with a sense of accomplishment.

Gael's laughter rings out, a genuine sound that fills the air. "Not bad," he comments, his voice laced with appreciation. He takes my hand, still holding the gun, and places his other hand lightly on my waist. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, and my cheeks flush. "But you might want to aim for the chest."

I steady my grip on the gun, allowing Gael's guidance to resonate within me. With each subsequent shot, I adjust my aim, seeking to improve my accuracy, to hit the mark with precision and confidence.

I stand there, my body poised and focused, as Gael positions himself behind me. I can feel the heat of his presence radiating against my back, his breath gently tickling my ear. The proximity sends a shiver down my spine, a mixture of excitement and tension that dances through my veins.

He guides my hands, his touch firm yet gentle, ensuring my grip on the gun is steady and controlled. His voice, almost a whisper, saying praises when I do well. The warmth of his breath against my skin distracts my senses, making it difficult to fully concentrate on the task at hand.

"Good, good." He tells me.

My mind struggles to stay focused, to absorb his instructions amidst the distracting sensations. But beneath the surface, my body hums with a different kind of tension, one fueled by the closeness of our bodies.

"You are a natural," he says in my ear again.

I pull away from him. "Thanks now stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He cranes his neck while still wearing a smirk.

I gaze into Gael's eyes, the intensity of our shared moment hanging in the air. As I take a deep breath, my hand slowly passes the gun back to him. "I think I'm done for today."

Gael's grip tightens around my arm, pulling me slightly closer. "I didn't excuse you," he asserts, his tone firm.

"Well, I'm excusing myself, whether you like it or not" I assert, my voice carrying a subtle edge.

For a moment, Gael simply looks at me, his expression unreadable. The silence between us stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, his grip softens, his eyes shimmering with a hint of something unspoken. "Fine, go," he concedes, his voice laced with a trace of reluctance. "But just to let you know, we are not done here."

A warm tingle spreads through my body at his words, a mixture of anticipation and curiosity. The enigmatic nature of his statement stirs a whirlwind of emotions within me. I hastily turn away, my footsteps quickening as I make my exit. Yet, as I steal a glance over my shoulder, I find Gael's gaze still fixed upon me, his eyes locked with mine.

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how are yall doing?