“Damn,” Brady moans.
“Yeah, my family is pumped,” Matt says, glancing at his cousins as we walk into the massive arena.
“This is some badass shit!” Brady reminds me of a kid in a candy shop. I don’t think I’ve seen him look at Nat like this. He grabs my sleeve and shakes me. “I am going to kill everyone!” He points at Carson and Rich who stick out like sore thumbs next to Cap and the boys. Carson is wearing a pale pink polo and Rich has on a silvery one. Rookies. “Everyone!”
Carson does a jerking-off motion at him, making Rich sneer and Cap laugh.
Brady rushes forward to the poor guy who is outfitting people with gear and trying to go over rules.
“This is about to get dirty,” Matt mumbles. “I already regret it. She’s going to murder me. And then I’ll have to come back and murder you two.” He eyes Brady who is pretending to shoot everyone in the crowd with crappy sound effects.
“You might need to remind everyone no face shots. One swollen ear will lead to a lot of other injuries when Sami sees it.”
“I’m going to shoot you in the dick at least once, Lori,” Matt admits softly before he follows Brady in.
“Yeah, I figured.” I take a deep breath before walking over as Matt begins reading the rules to the amped-up masses.
“No face shots. If Sami sees one injury, we are dead. You’ve all seen how tense she is.” Matt spins in a circle. “I want a friendly game, no cheap shots. Wear masks or goggles—”
“I’m not wearing goggles or a mask.” Brady scans the whole group. “I’m kicking the shit out of anyone who shoots me in the face.”
“You’re wearing the mask, everyone is!” Matt snaps.
“It’s—it’s actually the rules, Mr. Coldwell,” the poor guy handing out gear stammers. “Everyone has to.”
“This is shit,” Brady takes the mask and grumbles.
“Brady’s already crying? This should be interesting,” Bev says as she saunters over in camo pants and a heavy long-sleeve tee shirt. She has a weapon and a mask already.
“It’s going to be—” I pause. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be with the girls at the spa?”
She lifts the gun, clearly her own gear, and offers me a fierce stare as her reply.
“Fair enough.” I don’t need her to defend her desire to shoot a bunch of dudes. She is a hundred percent that bitch and there isn’t a man here who doesn’t fear her.
“You ready?” she calls behind her. I follow her gaze to where Red is walking along. She has on black jeans and a thin camo hoodie. She and Bev are dressed like they went to a metal concert before coming here. She too is holding a personal rifle.
“You can’t be here,” I say.
“Oh, so I’m good enough to peep in my windows and watch me dance in my underwear, but not good enough to play a friendly game of paintball with?” She’s faster than I expected. “Maybe you should sit this one out, if you can’t handle girls beating you.” She walks past me coldly as if the donair bonding never happened.
Bev steps into the crowd, barking at everyone over Matt who is still talking. “Listen up, morons. This is a fight to the death. You little city bitches better bring your A-game.” Bev nods at Cap who stands in front of the team. “It’s us Henderson crew against you pucks. May the best woman win!” She lifts her gun and treks past the guy in charge, ripping the bundle of her team’s vests from his hands.
She and Red head onto the course, choosing a side with Matt’s cousins trailing behind them.
“Was that the ginger?” Brady perks up.
“You’re in charge of him.” Matt glares at me and points at Brady. “I’m joining my family so I can shoot you both in the dick fairly. Good luck!” He stalks off, leaving the rest of us standing here.
Brady makes a crazy excited face, and I have a bad feeling this is about to get real.
11 Walking the trigger
Jenny
Bev’s cousin Eddie hangs a large red flag on our team’s flag house as Bev reads us the riot act while she hands out the dark-red pinnies—or vests as the Americans call them—to our team, “I don’t care what Matty says, every shot goes in the face or dick. We are not getting beat by some flashy, fancy-ass pucks. Those assholes have never played a Henderson game of paintball.”
The crowd cheers and I realize we are not the only girls. There are a few of us.
“Jenny, Eddie, Branson, and me will go after their flag. Everyone else stays here. If they get our flag, you have me to deal with, and I’ll tell Gran how you betrayed the family and let some Yankee swine whoop us!”
Eyes lower, making me wonder about the grandma who seemed so nice at dinner the night before. Although, if she was any part of raising Beverly, it all adds up. She must be terrifying once you get to know her.
Branson starts filling everyone’s guns and handing out grenades. “This is just like home. Stay to the sides of the course. Don’t be a hero. No middle action. I better see some sliding out there, if you get taken out by a New York Ranger, you have to wear that badge of dishonor your whole life.”
Matt comes and stands next to us. Beverly sneers, “Get back with your team, soldier. We don’t want no hockey player traitors on our side.”
“I’m one of you.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Let him stay, Bev,” Eddie comes to Matt’s defense. “But you better not suck.”
“You’re letting her stay but you have a problem with me?” Matt points his thumb at me. “I’m family.”
“I like her, Matty. You, I’m still not convinced about. Especially, not against them.” Bev points across the field.
He sighs but
