Serving Trouble(70)

Noah set his gun on the table. He moved through the motions, releasing the clip, racking the slide, and ejecting the round from the chamber. He set the piece and the ammunition down. Then he stepped back from the line, vaguely aware of the ­people moving around him. The range safety officer had called out “cease fire” and he’d been so caught up in the future, the what might happen when he left, that he’d missed it.

He stared down the range and out into the rolling hills lined with evergreens. So damn beautiful. He wished he could stay in the Willamette Valley, surrounded by the familiar scenery and the ­people he loved. But someone needed to make enough to pay for his grandmother’s retirement. And her rising medical costs.

“Noah!” a familiar voice barked.

He turned away from the hills in the distance and focused on the two men standing just beyond the line in his bay.

“Take off your ears,” Dominic hollered, raising his right hand to his ear.

Noah pulled off the safety gear that blocked out a helluva lot, including Josie’s brother.

“Hey,” Noah said, nodding to the man who was unmistakably related to Josie. He had the same dark hair and green eyes. Although the similarities stopped there. Dominic had played center for the Forever football team. He was built like a tank and stood an inch or two taller than Noah. He was going to make one helluva soldier. Plus, Josie’s brother had been itching to enlist since graduation. His father had tried to steer him toward the police academy, but after a few years of working with his dad, Dominic wanted more of a challenge.

And Noah wanted to stay right here and shoot at fucking paper.

“You didn’t hear a word we said, did you?” Ryan smiled, looking more like a movie star type than a football hero—­probably because he’d rarely taken the field as the backup kicker. And Ryan sure as shit didn’t look like a future air force pilot.

Noah forced a grin. “Had my ears on.”

“I said I bet Travis is glad you went after him with your fists,” Dominic informed him. “Not your pistol.”

“Yeah.” Noah shoved his hands in his pockets, his knuckles still raw from sparring with Travis Taylor. He’d had the upper hand. He’d approached the kid angry and knowing he planned to land a hit or two. Sure, he’d waited two weeks, giving Josie’s face time to heal so that no one would connect the pieces.

“Any reason you hit my sister’s boyfriend?” Dominic asked mildly.

“Ex-­boyfriend,” Noah corrected. He turned to the table to pick up his gear.

Dominic held out a hand to help. “They’ve broken up before and gotten back together.”

“They won’t this time.” Noah shook his head, declining his friend’s helping hand, and headed for the viewing gallery.

“Why?” Dominic demanded, abandoning his easy-­going tone. “What the fuck happened?”

“Ask your sister,” Noah said. “But our fight—­”

“That wasn’t a fight,” Ryan jumped in once they were alone in the small room designed for spectators. A bulletproof glass window separated the space from the range where the other shooters were heading back to the line.

“You took Travis out, man,” Ryan continued. “At least that’s what I heard.”

“He pissed me off.” Noah shrugged and headed for the gun case he’d stashed in the corner with his duffel. “And it wasn’t all about Josie.”

I wanted to make sure the kid thinks twice before hurting another woman. I wanted Travis to remember how his damn nose felt when I landed that hit.

“Some kid pisses you off and you swing?” Dominic said from behind him. “Why didn’t you drive your temper over here, to the shooting range?”

“I did,” he admitted, closing his case. Afterward. He picked up his stuff and turned around, ready to get the hell away from here.

“She won’t tell me anything,” Dominic said, and he moved closer, blocking Noah’s path to the door.

Noah stared at his friend and saw the same determination that had radiated from Josie the other night. “Look, it’s not my story to tell. But I’ll say this. That asshole Travis doesn’t deserve her and he won’t go near her again.”

His best friend since damn near forever stared back at him as if waiting for Noah to crack and spill more about what had led to Travis Taylor’s broken nose.

Noah just held his gaze.

Finally, Dominic took a step back. “Thanks for looking out for her. I wish you’d tell me what went down . . .”

Noah shook his head.

“But,” Dominic continued, his face breaking into a rare smile, “as long as you’re taking on the big brother role—­”