Outmatched

“They’re coming down the tree house. Bunker.” He grabbed my arm and guided me toward the small opening. Inside the bunker was mostly dark except for pools of light that spilled in from a window on either side of the doorway.

“Take a position.”

I followed his order and his movements, taking the window farthest away and mirroring how he positioned himself with his gun at the ready by the corner. It meant he was out of sight, but he had a clear shot.

Feeling the rush of another spike of adrenaline, my heart raced.

A boot appeared around the edge of the bunker, then a leg, then a torso—

I fired, red paint hitting Evan all over his chest.

“Fuck!”

I grinned evilly. That would serve him right for talking about my private life to Creepy Pete. Karma was a bitch.

Evan turned around and ripped off his facemask. He threw up his hands in despair. “That’s me out.”

“Well, don’t give my position away, you idiot,” a female voice, presumably belonging to his wife Annabelle, snapped from somewhere behind the side of the bunker.

“That’s a nice way to talk to your husband.”

“I told you we should’ve stayed in the tree house!”

So engrossed in their amusing argument, I hadn’t even noticed Rhys moving, let alone leaving the bunker, until he suddenly appeared at Evan’s side and fired his gun toward Annabelle’s voice.

“Jesus!” Annabelle yelled. “That stings.”

“Now you’re both out,” Rhys said, chuckling. “Feel like telling me where that flag is?”

Evan scowled. “Just because we’re out doesn’t mean we don’t want our team to win.”

“Ugh, I couldn’t care less.” Annabelle appeared in view, her mask off. “I’m heading back to the club for a beer.”

She’d barely walked out of sight when Evan yelled, “Fuck!”

Swiveling my head back to him and Rhys, I watched Evan clutch his knee.

“That’s against the rules.” Evan gritted his teeth, his face red. “What the hell was that?”

Realizing Rhys had shot him again, I lurched to my feet, about to call him out, when his pissed-off answer stopped me. “That was for gossiping like a little bitch to the dick in payroll about me and my woman.”

Shock rooted me to the spot, and while I knew I should be annoyed by his macho antics and illegal shooting, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill go through me. Except for Zoe, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had my back.

If possible, my colleague turned an even darker shade of red. “Okay, I will let that shot go because you’re right. Pete shouldn’t have approached Parker in front of everyone. He embarrassed us both and took what I said out of context. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

They shared a wary nod, and Evan followed his wife. I felt terrible that Rhys had embarrassed my colleague, but a darker side of me enjoyed my fake boyfriend’s version of justice.

Coming out of the bunker, I found I didn’t know what to say as our eyes met.

Turns out I didn’t have time to say anything because a ball of yellow paint flew past my ear.

Rhys dove and took me to the ground, covering me as he spun around and fired. “Back into the bunker!” he yelled.

Ignoring the ache in my rump, I shuffled out from under him and lunged for the doorway. When I didn’t hear him behind me, I turned and looked out into the clearing.

Rhys ran across the field, firing his gun, missing hits aimed at him from the woods near the tree house. He jumped over the man-made barriers as if his body were made of air and set up his position there.

Scrambling toward the bunker window, I stationed myself as before and saw Creepy Pete and his friend Alan peeking out behind two trees.

My walkie-talkie crackled. “They could be a second defense team. The flag might be in the fucking tree house. Over.”

Before I could answer, Xander’s voice crackled down the line. “Where is your position? Over?”

“About five minutes from where we started on the far northwest side of the yellow team’s perimeter. We’re in a clearing with a bunker and a tree house. We’ve taken out two yellows but there are two more on our left flank. Come up behind them. Take them out. Over.”

“We’ve taken out a team too. On our way,” Xander said. “Over.”

There must still be three yellow-team pairs left. We were facing off with one, which meant the other two were probably in our territory looking for our flag.

“Our guys have worked out where you’re hiding your flag!” Pete yelled from behind a tree about fifty yards from Rhys’s position. “You might as well give up.”

My walkie crackled. “That Pete? Over.”

Curling my lip in annoyance, I lifted my walkie. I’d explained to Rhys before the kiss on our fake date that I thought perhaps Pete had it in for me because of my background. Rhys thought Pete sounded like a… well, he referred to him as a dick. He wasn’t wrong. “That’s Creepy Pete. Over.”