Gunnar
Jericho piped, pointing a thumb behind him in the direction he and his brother had come from.
I should have felt offended by Ace's words but there was just something exhilarating that came with being an underdog. Aiming my gun at Gunnar's vest, I repeated the inhale-exhale action and was proud when pink mixed with the yellow paint already marking the spot.
"I think the fuck not," Gunnar growled, setting his gun and searching through the scope to find me, "I think she's fully capable of making that shot, brother."
"She's a badass," Jericho muttered, amusement lacing his words, "who would have thought."
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