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.”