Malo - Page 72

My father grins back. “He’s a good man, that Malo,” he tells me. “Despite the name.”

I laugh. It really doesn’t suit him anymore, but it’s the one I’ve always known him by. I kind of like it.

“He is,” I agree, and I nod over to the kitchen. “Is the coffee machine working? I could use one.”

“It’s impossible to set up.” My father sighs, shaking his head.

I chuckle. “You’re a scientist and you can’t set up a coffee machine?” I tease him. “Come on, I’ll have a look for you.”

The two of us head to the kitchen to take a look at the coffee machine, but I don’t really care if we can get it working or not. No, the only thing that matters to me right now is the chance to spend a little time with my father, time I wasn’t sure I would ever get to enjoy again. It’s hard to believe everything is really behind us, but it is. We’re free.

And freedom feels damn good when it’s this hard-earned.

CHAPTER 50

MALO

“Okay, steady, steady…” I tell Harley, as I stand behind her and guide her hand toward the target. She squeezes one eye shut, presses down on the trigger, and the bullet flashes from the barrel to the right of the center of the target.

“Shit!” she exclaims, dropping the gun by her side to reload. “I feel like I’m getting closer.”

“You are,” I assure her. “Just a little more practice and you’ll be good.”

“Almost as good as Maria, right?” she retorts, cocking an eyebrow at me.

I laugh. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I remind her. “She’s a better shot than most of the men here.”

“She’s going to have me to contend with soon,” Harley replies, going to aim the gun again.

I step back, giving her the space she needs to fire off the shot.

Earlier this afternoon, I offered to give Harley a hand with her shooting. She’s still a little pissed, I think, that she didn’t get a chance to take on the cartel in that final battle we waged against them. I know Beast would never in a million years have let her get involved in it, but she’s still looking for some kind of revenge, especially since I was the one to cut off El Serpiente’s right hand.

She’s glad he’s dead, of course, but it’s not the same as getting to take him out herself, and it’s obvious that she wishes she had more to do with it. These lessons are my way of trying to make it up to her, trying to show her that she’s still part of this team, and that we value her skills and abilities. Even if I’m pretty goddamn certain her father will never let her out into the field.

But giving her the tools to handle herself will make everything a bit easier. I’m impressed at how quickly she’s coming to terms with everything, how hard she’s been working. It’s clear she’s serious about showing how capable she is. Even if she’s frustrated she isn’t a master of firearms yet, with a little more practice, she won’t be far off.

She lines up another shot, and takes it. This time, it lands about an inch closer to the target.

“Getting there,” I tell her optimistically, and she sighs.

“Not fast enough,” she mutters, reloading again. I pause. There’s so much I want to say to her, but Harley has never exactly been the type to throw all her feelings out there quite so easily.

“You will,” I assure her. “You’re getting there.”

“Maybe,” she mutters. Before she lifts her gun to take another shot, I speak again.

“How are you doing, anyway?” I ask.

She pauses, glances over at me. “What do you mean?”

“With… everything,” I reply. It’s not specific enough, and I know it. I’m sure she’s going to brush the question off, but she takes a deep breath, and she answers.

“Well, it’s a little fucking weird that Bella is about to give birth to my little sister,” she remarks flippantly. “But I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be good to have a kid around. Good for my dad, too.”

She fires off another shot. She knows as well as I do that’s not what I’m talking about, but she’s not going to give me any more than she has to. She trains her gaze straight ahead and shoots three in a row, all in a straight line down the center of the target. She grins, catching her breath, and narrows her eyes for a moment before she speaks again.

“It’s still hard sometimes, you know,” she admits. I tense. This is it. The shit she never wants to come out with—the shit she struggles to say to anyone.