A/N Hey, sorry it is so short. I'm pretty busy right now. Please review. Thanks for all of the nice things you said about the last chapter. Love y'all3

Disclaimer: Ally Carter owns all.

"They what?" I say, outraged.

"They took him to Langley." Macey is still glaring at the table. "They said he might have information on the circle and took him last night."

"You know this how?" Asks Bex.

"I gave one of the men a black eye and broke the leg of the another," she shrugs. "They ticked me off."

Zach laughs, "they ticked you off and your gut reaction was to spin out some defensive moves?"

"Yeah, Preston looked like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. They finally pulled out their badges and told me that if I didn't let them take him, they would make sure I was pulled out of this school and that on top of that they would arrest me and take me with them. I figured I wouldn't be able to do anything to help if I was in a cell at Langley."

"So what are we going to do?" Liz asks.

"Nothing," says an irritated voice. I turn to look behind me. Mom. "Cammie, Zach, my office please."

As we walk towards her office, she doesn't say a thing. Zach grabs my hand as if sensing that I was on the verge of losing it. I smile at him. He smiles back. My mother opens her office door and steps aside, motioning for us to enter, Catherine pushes me into a dark, damp musty smelling room. "Welcome home Cammie," she says, removing my blindfold. I pull myself into the present.

"Gallagher Girl? You okay?" Asks Zach.

I swallow. "Fine." We walk into my mother's office. Welcome home, I think sourly as I see the couch I'd spent almost every Sunday since seventh grade on.

My mother motions for us to sit on it and takes the chair at her desk. She doesn't waste any time, just gets to the point. "Under the circumstances, it has been decided that we need to test your shooting ability Cam. Zach, you will assist her. Targets have been set up in the woods already, Abby and Joe are waiting. They have guns with them so there will be no need to take your own. I'd hurry if I were you, they're calling for rain." We get up and head to the door. I can't believe my mother is being so rude. As I put my hand on the door, she says one more thing. "Kiddo, I know that you think I'm being mean and I'm sorry, but I've got a lot going on right know. Between the Baxter's going missing and you running of to Rome to save Preston, my hands are full."

I nod, "see you later Mom."

When we get to the targets that have been set up in the woods, my breath catches, as does Zach's. It looks like the whole Gallagher gun collection is on the ground in front of one of the targets. I swallow hard and Zach's arm goes around my waist. "It'll be fine." He says.

"I know," I say with confidence that I don't feel. He presses his lips to my forehead, then my mouth.

"Ahem." Somebody clears their throat. Abby. Zach and I jump apart. "I see you found us than. Zach, I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from sticking your tongue into my niece's mouth."

Zach and I both turn red, Mr. Solomon laughs. "Yes ma'am," I thought Zach would salute.

"Okay, with that cleared up, lets get started, Joe, if you'd be so kind as to explain?"

"Okay," says Mr. Solomon. " We set up targets at 50 paces, 100 paces, 200 paces, 300 paces, and 350 paces. There are some beyond that but I would be astounded if you were to hit them. The farthest is at 600 paces. You will shoot using which ever gun you feel like using, and Zach will shoot at the same time as you. The purpose of this is to see how good your accuracy is compared to somebody who has been shooting since they first started training in seventh grade. You may each take a couple practice shots to begin with. Go."

Zach and I both grab handguns. I aim for the target, just visible at 300 paces. Aunt Abby goes to check it. I hit it dead center Zach aimed for the same one and got the same result as me. I aim for what looks like 400 paces, dead center again. Zach got the same result. I hear Mr. Solomon suck in a breath. I aim for 600 paces. I hit it dead center for a third time. Dead centro Zach missed completely. Mr. Solomon shouts for Aunt Abby to move the target back to 700, dead center, 800, dead center 900, dead center We stop then. It has been a little over an hour and I officially have better aim than a Blackthorne boy. I swallow the lump of dread forming in my throat.