The Detective and Her Bachelor

Chapter 20

There is something intoxicating about a power shift. When you suddenly go from being the underdog to top dog. From struggling to keep your head above water to suddenly standing on solid ground. It's like getting a power-up in the middle of a game level that has been kicking your butt. You suddenly have everything you need to skid across the finish line and feel like a badass while you do it. 

That was the feeling that coursed through my veins as I pulled on the paintball gear in the locker room, itching to get started. I was powerful, experienced, and ready to let off a little steam with a few fun choice targets. 

Women are expert emotional assassins. With a single word, we can cut you to the bone and leave you with permanent scars to remind you of just how fragile you are. I had never quite mastered the gift of permanent emotional scarring. At least not on purpose. I much preferred physical attacks. They were faster and required much less clever thinking to accomplish. 

Maybe that's why women scared me. You could ice a punch given, but an emotional attack offered scars that weren't so easily soothed. 

"Alright ladies, get into groups of two!" Jade said in his crisp clear voice as we shuffled outside. Jade now sported a button-down blue shirt, attempting to look casual while standing in an open-air arena covered in a splatter of neon color. He looked like a kitten attempting to avoid a bathtub. I could see the unease on his face, afraid of getting paint on himself. I suddenly wished he was a potential target. 

The girls paired up around me, leaving me standing alone like an idiot. We were an odd number of girls and it had never been more obvious than it did at that moment.

Faaaantastic.

I shouldn't have been surprised to be left standing by myself.  While everyone had dressed in comfortable and cute clothing, I had taken the idea of a paintball war perhaps a little too seriously, looking menacing compared to their bright tracksuits and yoga pants. 

I had my hair pulled back into a long braid, sporting all black clothes, a set of elbow, and knee pads, combat boots, and a black streak under each eye like a warrior combat princess. 

Do they not know how much getting hit by a paintball hurts? Or would they rather look cute instead of avoiding getting bruised? 

"Looks like Delle is stuck alone," Emily said with a snort. "No one to watch your back." 

I rolled my eyes, making a mental note to take her out first. I glanced around the equipment area where random solo players attached gear to their bodies. The sun beat down across the grass, forcing me to squint out at the other players. 

I could probably grab some random person to play on my team, but the cameras around us seemed to make people wary of approaching. I didn't blame them. No one came out to play paintball, hoping to get roped into a dramatic show about dating. No one wanted to become a part of a dramatic story where they would probably be painted in a bad light.

"I'll play on her team," someone said behind me, voice soft. I turned to see Em, the girl who had threatened to write an article about me standing with a paintball gun at her hip, eyes flashing a brilliant green. 

She stood dressed in head-to-toe black clothes, covered in paintball gear padding that matched mine in its epic 'I take this game seriously,' tone. Her short brown hair was pulled back in several bright clips to keep it out of her face. She looked like a mashup of a pixie and an assassin. 

"That little shrimp?" Emily laughed, eyeing Em with a mischievous grin. "What good is she gonna do." 

Em raised her head, a slow smile spreading across her face, eyes sharp and threatening. "Then it shouldn't be a problem." Em turned to look at me. "That is if you're open to it."