Going Wild (The Wild Ones Book 2)(29)

My eyes widen when he turns his rapid-fire airsoft gun at me.

I tuck and roll, diving out of the way, hoping everyone isn’t getting a shot of my fugly undies. Yeah, they’re not the Garfield ones I thought they were.

Tate Nickel pointed out they have some other really scary cat on the crotch of them after I sailed over his head on the way to Penny’s. I’m not sure how I grabbed the wrong panties.

Totally not the point right now.

I take cover beside my dad as he fires at the Wilders who are…zip-lining toward us.

When the hell did they get zip-lines installed?! This is why you aren’t ever supposed to lose sight of them!

They’re shooting some ridiculous PVC thing, and fish are flying from it. Smelly, dirty, disgusting fish. Everything from minnow-wads to bream are flying through the air.

Another Wilder comes sailing through on a rope swing, yelling like Tarzan as he rapidly fires more of the fish.

Lilah takes a seat with a piece of cake, not even concerned with the madness as she eats it, ducking for a stray fish to fly over her head without ever looking up.

I slide across the ground, firing at the next Wilder who comes down the zip-line. I hit Kai in the chest, and he turns that fishy shooter right at me.

My eyes widen, but before I can scream, a fish comes flying at my face, slapping me right in the mouth.

I gag. A little. Because it smells like they let the fish get real raunchy for a few days before deciding to use them for ammo. It tastes like warm garbage.

I dive again, deciding I’d rather tangle with an airsoft gun than rancid fish. Nickels are using airsoft guns too, so I pop a few of them with my paintballs, snatching a refill canister from Jason’s hip as he runs by.

Krysta continues to sing, dodging the occasional stray fish, and I tuck and roll right in front of the stage, popping a few of her brothers, before rolling again.

I spot Liam firing an airsoft gun next to Hale, their backs together. He’s laughing too hard to really aim, and I can’t help but grin like an idiot.

I never thought he’d fit in, yet he’s hanging with the Vincent brothers—of all people—like he’s their missing sidekick.

Smirking, I crouch, making sure my dress isn’t showing anything it shouldn’t be, as I shoot him five times in the side before he can swing toward me.

His eyes flare with excitement, and suddenly he’s shooting that damn thing rapidly at me. Those fuckers hurt too.

I laugh, running back toward the Malone corner…but scramble to a halt when I see Jason holding up a grenade. My mouth opens in a silent scream, and he sees me too late, already throwing it.

I try to jump out of the way, but I feel the wet blast of it against my legs, arms, and face as I fall to the ground, curling into the fetal position, and making myself as small as possible, while they launch five or six more.

It’s like one wet blast after another, my body right in the kill zone.

Paint is all over me now.

Those dicks better be glad I put my precious suedes up nice and safe.

I’d kill them. For real.

Two arms grab me, and I look up as Liam hoists me up, dragging me quickly back to where he and Hale are firing toward my family.

Normally I wouldn’t shoot at my own, but those fuckers just launched a grenade arsenal while I was in the line of fire.

I prop up beside him, and I start ticking them off, hitting them hard in the chests. That’ll leave some pretty bruises because they didn’t wear the thick chest plates.

My dad yelps when I catch him right smack dab in his arm pit, and he narrows his eyes at me. I shoot him again right on his thigh, smirking when he drops to the ground. Then I hit Jason right in the balls.

Goliath collapses with a pale face. I actually hope I didn’t hurt him too bad, because I didn’t aim for that.

Hale and Liam both groan with sympathy, but I don’t stop firing until the song ends.

All the while, Lilah has finished up her cake, and now she’s dabbing the corners of her lips like a dainty little princess. Not one drop of dirt or paint is on her beautifully white dress.

I’m panting heavily as I drop the gun.

“That’s all?” Liam asks, sounding oddly disappointed when he notices everyone putting away their weapons.

“End of the song. Don’t worry, sharp shooter; they’ll sing it again,” Hale tells him, laughing as Liam frowns, reluctantly relinquishing his weapon.

“Come on. We’ll get a drink,” I say on a sigh.

Liam smiles down at me, one of his hands going for my curls again. I let him. Somehow the paint avoided my hair. At least I think so. It better have, or so many Malones are going to pay.

“Kylie Malone never lets anyone touch her curls, so I have to be nosy,” Nila Wilder says as she joins us, reaching past us to use the keg.