Leeching My Talent

I knew perfectly well that my boyfriend's childhood best friend was practically legally blind. Yet, during a critical wilderness rescue operation, I willingly handed my customized tranquilizer rifle over to her. Then I pulled out my phone, leaned back against a pine tree, and booted up a mobile battle royale game.

I did it because I remembered my past life. Back then, this exact same girl, a big-box store cashier, suddenly stepped up at our tactical training range and shot perfect bullseyes.

When people questioned her impossible accuracy, Bella just shrugged and said that scanning barcodes at a cash register was the exact same muscle memory as pulling a trigger. She claimed it was just practice making perfect.

From that day on, she replaced me as the core tactical marksman of our elite search and rescue squad. She soaked up all the glory, the media praise, and the massive bonuses.

I was reduced to a glorified pack mule, enduring endless eye rolls and mockery from the very teammates I used to protect.

It wasn't until she retired to marry my boyfriend that she finally revealed the truth. She lured me to an empty shooting range, fired a few flawless shots, and laughed in my face.

"Riley, I finally don't have to drag you around like a pathetic shadow anymore," she had sneered. "So what if you trained until your fingers bled for twenty years? In everyone's eyes, I'm the only genius sniper around here."

That was when I finally understood. Every single time Bella looked down a scope, she was neurologically linking to my brain, perfectly leeching and replicating my hard-earned shooting skills.

Then I blinked, and the world reset. I was reborn, standing right back on the very day Bella first claimed that scanning groceries was the same as firing a high-caliber weapon.

This time, I was going to let them all burn.

"Fifty-yard stationary, nine points."

"Skeet shooting, twenty-two hits."

"Moving target, eight points."

"Riley, you took first place in the tactical assessment again. You really are the undisputed ace of this squad."

I stared at the crowd of teammates cheering around me. The midday sun glaring off their tactical gear felt entirely surreal.

My boyfriend, Connor, jogged over with a polished marksman medal in his hands, flashing a brilliant smile.

"Come on, Ry. Take your prize. You earned this."

My hand reached out entirely out of habit. Right at that moment, a loud, obnoxious scoff cut through the applause.

My chest tightened. Here it comes.

"You guys give out medals for scores like that? I mean, shouldn't anyone with functioning hands be able to do that?"

The squad went dead silent. Everyone turned to see who had the nerve to talk such garbage. When they realized it was Bella, a chorus of mocking laughter broke out.

"Ignorance really is bliss," one of the guys snickered. "A supermarket cashier with a barcode scanner thinks she can look down on elite rescue operatives."

Bella flushed bright red, visibly furious that her little comment had backfired.

"It's just pulling a trigger. What is the big deal? I come from a generational military family. I practically have gunpowder in my blood."

That only made the squad laugh harder.

"Your dad is a local gun nut who shoots beer cans in the woods," someone shouted. "What kind of military family is that? The discount aisle militia?"

I watched Bella pout her lips, fully anticipating her next move. Just like in my past life, she was going to latch onto Connor and beg for a turn.

Right on cue, Bella grabbed the sleeve of Connor's tactical jacket and whined.

"Connor, please just let me try. What, are you worried I'm going to waste a few dollars in ammo?"

She paused, her eyes darting over to lock onto mine. "Or... are you worried Riley will get mad if my score is better than hers?"

Connor and I had been a couple for years. We fought side by side in the harshest wilderness environments. He should have known I wasn't the jealous type.

But his reaction was just as disappointing as the last time.

Connor furrowed his brow, looking at me with a hint of warning. "Riley, Bella is just acting like a kid. Treat it like a game to humor her. Don't throw a tantrum over this, okay?"

Without waiting for my response, he made the executive decision and guided Bella straight to the firing line.

For someone supposedly from a military family, Bella held the rifle like it was a rotting fish. Her posture was stiff, awkward, and completely wrong.

But the second the buzzer sounded, a phantom shift took over her body.

Her movements became ruthlessly efficient. Her trigger pulls were completely devoid of hesitation.

Whether it was a stationary paper target or a mechanical clay pigeon flying across the field, she tracked them with absolute perfection.

When the final target popped up, Bella squeezed the trigger. A clean, devastating hit.

"Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye. Every single one is a dead center hit!"

The squad could not hide their absolute shock. They swarmed her immediately, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You just shattered Riley's all-time record! You are an absolute natural. A total prodigy!"

I looked over at Connor. He wasn't even glancing in my direction. He ran straight to Bella and wrapped her in a massive bear hug.

"Bella, when the hell did you learn to shoot like this? Why didn't you tell me?"

Bella soaked up the attention, her face glowing with smug satisfaction.

"It really isn't a big deal. You look at the target, you pull the trigger. The bullets go in a straight line. It's not rocket science."

The entire squad was already drunk on the fantasy of discovering a hidden tactical genius.

"Bella, you have never touched a firearm in your life, and you didn't even flinch. Riley comes from a family of elite marksmen, and she literally cried the first time she fired a gun."

Surrounded by a chorus of aggressive flattery, Bella was practically floating.

"I really don't know what to tell you guys. What is the difference between scanning a bag of chips and pulling a trigger? Maybe Riley is just a little too pampered and delicate."

Not a single guy on the squad cared about the blatant insult she just hurled at me. They were all talking over each other, demanding that Connor recruit Bella onto the team immediately.

Connor's face was plastered with absolute pride.

That was when I stepped forward.

"Captain. Bella has exceptional accuracy, but she has absolutely zero physical conditioning or field training. Throwing a civilian straight into live wilderness operations is a massive liability. She won't know how to move with the unit."

In my past life, Bella joined the squad midway through the season. Her stamina was pathetic, and her survival instincts were nonexistent.

Aside from stealing my shooting skills, her only contribution to the team was constantly dragging us down and putting lives at risk.

I suggested she go through basic physical conditioning first. But Bella immediately twisted it, crying to the squad that I was purely jealous. She convinced them I wanted her gone so I could keep all the glory for myself.

Because of that, Connor stripped me of my sniper designation. He forced me to become Bella's personal pack mule, carrying her heavy rifle and tactical gear through miles of treacherous terrain just so she wouldn't get tired.

This time, the trap hadn't been sprung yet. If Connor had a shred of actual leadership in him, he would know better than to throw an untrained civilian into the deep woods.

Hearing my logic, Connor hesitated.

Bella saw him wavering and immediately turned her crosshairs on me.

"Riley, I promise I won't try to steal your spotlight. Please, just give me a chance to change my life. Please?"

She covered her face with her hands, letting out pathetic little sobs.

"I know I'm just a nobody cashier. I don't have a rich military pedigree like you do. But is it a crime to be born poor?"

I kept my voice dead level, refusing to take the bait.

"That is not what I said. Wilderness rescue means navigating cliffsides, ravines, and highly aggressive predators. One wrong step gets people killed. We cannot risk the lives of the team or the victims just to let you play soldier."

But Connor's expression only darkened with every word I spoke.

"That is enough, Riley! So what if you've held a rifle longer than she has? Stop acting so damn superior. We get it, you've never had a casualty on your watch. Do you want a gold star?"

The words caught in my throat. I suddenly remembered that years ago, Connor's personal negligence on a mission had cost one of our teammates their life. He had just weaponized his own guilt against me.

"I am making the call right now. Bella is the new primary marksman for this unit."

A ripple of shock went through the squad.

"Captain, if Bella is taking the lead shooter spot, what happens to Riley?"

Connor's tone left zero room for argument.

"She just got outperformed by a girl who has never touched a gun before. What right does she have to hold the title? Riley will act as Bella's support element and carry her gear."

The gavel had fallen.

A few guys looked slightly worried about Bella's lack of experience, but since the captain had made it an official order, they just clapped her on the shoulder and offered congratulations.

Seeing that her scheme worked perfectly, Bella couldn't hide her twisted grin.

"Connor, does that mean we get to be partners for the rescue op this afternoon?"

Connor stumbled back slightly as she threw her arms around his neck, shooting a rapid, guilty glance in my direction.

"Don't be crazy, Bella. Riley is standing right here. I can't pair up with you."

Bella rested her chin on Connor's shoulder, her eyes locked onto mine, dripping with pure provocation.

"Riley, you wouldn't say no to us teaming up, right?"

I didn't even blink. "Absolutely not."

Her face instantly morphed into a mask of deep, agonizing hurt.

"Riley, I just want to team up with Connor so we can save lives. It is purely professional. Why does your mind always have to go to such dark, toxic places?"

Connor looked at me like a stranger, his eyes full of disgust.

"Bella's only focus is saving people in danger. Why is your mind so filthy, Riley?"

Even the rest of the guys chimed in, fully convinced I was acting out of bitter jealousy.

"If your aim sucks, go to the range and fix it. Spreading trashy rumors about another girl just makes you look pathetic."

"Connor goes to her supermarket to hang out all the time, and you never threw a fit before. You're just pissed she took your crown, Riley."

A stampede of absolute rage thundered through my skull.

"I said absolutely not, because she cannot walk into a live rescue operation looking like that." I gestured coldly at her outfit.

"She needs properly fitted tactical gear. People project their own insecurities onto others, Bella. Out in the field, there is a lot more to learn than just how to start romantic rumors."

Bella ground her teeth together.

"Right. Because when it comes to actual marksmanship, you clearly have absolutely nothing left to teach me."

The squad dispersed. I ignored Bella entirely and began prepping my tactical vest for the afternoon op.

The objective was to extract a group of amateur hikers trapped by a highly aggressive wolf pack in a rocky ravine.

After we reached our designated overwatch position, I dropped my heavy pack and quickly assembled the customized tranquilizer rifle.

We didn't use lethal rounds. Everything was heavy-duty sedatives, and the rifles were heavily modified for maximum velocity and silence.

The second I clicked the bipod into place, Bella shoved her way in front of me and wrapped her hand around the pistol grip.

She glanced back over her shoulder, smiling like a venomous snake.

"Sorry, Riley. I am the lead shooter now. Why don't you just sit back and take notes?"

I crossed my arms and watched her struggle to get comfortable on the dirt. "I thought you wanted to partner up with Connor?"

Connor's voice crackled through my earpiece.

"Bella doesn't have live combat experience yet. I ordered her to stay by your side so she can shadow your process. Next time, she takes full control of the nest."

I didn't argue. I just silently pulled a secondary spotting scope out of my bag and set it up in the dirt.

We baked under the blistering sun for three brutal hours before the wolf pack finally emerged from the tree line.

Ignoring the stinging sweat pouring into my eyes, I immediately locked my scope onto the alpha wolf's skull.

Thwack.

A perfect hit to the neck.

But I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger.

My finger was hovering right over the guard when Bella turned her head, grinning ear to ear.

"Oops, sorry Riley. You were just moving way too slow. I was terrified the alpha was going to bolt."

For the rest of the op, Bella didn't give me a single chance to fire.

Every single time I mentally locked onto a target, calculated the windage, and prepared to squeeze, her bullet would leave the chamber a split-second before mine.

Shot after shot. Her performance was a flawless, terrifying display of lethal precision. She hit every target, bailing the ground team out of deadly corners and ensuring the hikers didn't take a single scratch.

When the dust finally settled and the op was called, the mood was electric.

At the base camp celebration that night, we learned the rescued hiker was a billionaire's son. He personally handed Bella a velvet box stuffed with diamond jewelry as a token of absolute gratitude.

Staring at the millions of dollars glittering in the box, Bella couldn't even pretend to hide the raw greed in her eyes.

"I am so sorry, Riley. This was supposed to be your reward."

Connor grabbed Bella by the shoulders, practically glowing with pride.

"You have nothing to apologize for. If Riley had been on the trigger today, there is zero chance the op would have gone that smoothly."

The regional director of the rescue company was at the party. He raised a glass to Bella, entirely ignoring me.

"Bella, for a rookie on her first live op, your performance was completely unprecedented. I listened to the radio logs. You didn't utter a single word on the comms, yet your synergy with the ground team was flawless. You were born for this squad."

Bella puffed her chest out.

"True synergy doesn't need to be spoken out loud. It just happens."

She shot me a side-eye. "The guys on the ground are fighting for their lives. Flooding the comms with useless chatter just distracts them and drags them down."

"I trust my aim. No matter what goes wrong, I know I can save them. I don't need other people sacrificing themselves just to make up for my mistakes."

Standing in the corner of the tent, my head was throbbing.

What an absolute load of garbage.

A sniper sits at the highest elevation specifically to act as the eyes of the battlefield. Calling out targets and directing traffic is half the job.

During the entire op, all Bella did was brain-leech my shooting mechanics. I was the one mentally tracking the wolves, calculating the drops, and quietly adjusting the spotting scope to feed her the angles.

Without me doing the heavy mental lifting, she would have been shooting at dirt.

But the director was already glaring at me.

"Connor, the company's annual Elite Marksman nomination is going to Bella this year. We have too many people taking up space on the payroll, acting like they own the place while stepping on their teammates' hard work."

Without giving me a single second to defend myself, the director turned his back and walked away.

For the rest of the night, Connor paraded Bella around the VIP tent, introducing her to the wealthy executives and politicians. He entirely forgot about his actual girlfriend.

When we finally got back to the compound, Bella proudly announced that the billionaire had gifted her an all-expenses-paid, seven-day trip to Bora Bora.

Connor told me it was a well-deserved reward for her heroism.

"Oh, by the way, Ry. Bella gets a little spooked sleeping in new places. I want you to clear your stuff out of our room. I'm going to stay with her for a few nights until she gets comfortable. You can move back in later."

Every single bunk in the compound was full. I stared at the dusty, spider-infested storage closet at the end of the hall. I didn't say a word.

Lying on a damp, moldy mattress, I scrolled through social media. Bella had just posted a photo of her and Connor in matching swimwear on a white sand beach.

My chest felt hollow, filled with a toxic mix of disgust and exhaustion.

Over the next few months, Bella rinsed and repeated the exact same strategy.

By parasitically draining my skills, she racked up flawless mission records. The legend of the prodigy sniper grew to astronomical heights.

Every time the alarm rang, I carried her eighty-pound gear bags up mountainsides without a single complaint.

The more she showed off, the more I willingly fed her the targets.

Then came the red-alert call. The son of the country's wealthiest tech mogul was trapped deep in a ravine, completely surrounded by a den of territorial grizzly bears.

I was at the range doing extra conditioning drills when the guys walked by.

"Still trying to steal your sniper spot back? You really think you can climb over our dead bodies just to get a shiny trophy on your desk?"

Bella was standing there, wearing expensive silk hand-masks to protect her skin.

"Real talent doesn't come from having ugly calluses on your fingers, boys."

She covered her mouth, giggling softly.

"Riley, seriously, you need to spend more time on your makeup and hair. Otherwise, when you finally get kicked to the curb, you won't even be able to find a man."

She raised her left hand, flashing a blinding, massive diamond ring under the floodlights. The entire squad gasped.

"Captain bought you a ring?! Holy hell, when is the wedding?"

Meeting Bella's vicious, gloating stare, I calmly broke down my rifle and packed it into its hard case.

"If that's the case, I'm officially resigning tomorrow morning."

Bella froze instantly.

"I'm never getting the sniper spot back anyway. My family already bought me a plane ticket home."

"You can't leave!"

Her frantic screech echoed across the asphalt. The squad looked at her, entirely confused as to why she was having a meltdown over me quitting.

She forced herself to take a breath, trying to play it cool.

"I... I just mean the billionaire is probably going to give us a massive cash bonus tomorrow. It would be a total waste for you to walk away from that."

"Don't try to stop her. Let her walk."

Connor came striding out of the command center, his face twisted in annoyance.

"If you want to quit, then pack your bags and leave quietly. Did you really think making a massive scene would make us beg you to stay? Stop desperate for attention, Riley."

I didn't even flinch. But Bella was practically hyperventilating.

"Tomorrow's op is a code red! I don't have enough field experience for grizzly bears. I need Riley out there with me. Connor, please, just order her to stay for one more run."

The squad looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

"Bella, with your aim, you're virtually untouchable. Pure talent beats experience every single time."

"Yeah, Riley's aim is garbage compared to yours. All she's good for is wiping down the rifle barrels. Don't let her dead weight drag you down."

Bella was trapped in a nightmare of her own making. She couldn't tell them the truth, so she had to swallow the panic.

She threw all her chips at Connor.

"Connor, we agreed we were going to retire and get married after this final payout, right? The squad is going to need a marksman when I'm gone."

"Riley might not be as good as me, but she can hold the line for a while after I leave. Just look at it as a favor to the team."

Connor sighed, finally giving in to her pleading.

"Fine. Riley, this is your absolute last chance. Do your job tomorrow and support Bella. If a single hair on her head gets messed up, I will personally throw you out of this compound."

When I gave a slow nod, Bella let out a massive, trembling exhale.

The next morning on the tarmac, Bella's eyes were bloodshot and swollen like she hadn't slept a wink.

"How are you supposed to look down a scope like that?" I asked coldly. "Captain, I should take the lead on this"

"Shut your mouth," Connor snapped, cutting me off instantly. "This isn't the first time Bella's looked a little tired, and has she ever missed a shot? No."

"I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to try and ruin Bella's final retirement op. Are you really that desperate to see her fail?"

I watched Connor carefully shield Bella as she climbed into the transport helicopter, and a frozen sneer formed in my chest.

Back when I was the lead sniper, if my eyes were even slightly irritated, or if I had gotten less than eight hours of sleep, Connor would instantly bench me, preaching about safety protocols and team survival.

Because of that, I spent ten years acting like a machine. I never played video games, never read late into the night, strictly monitored my diet, and sacrificed every shred of a normal life just to stay perfectly sharp.

But with Bella, suddenly the lives of the men on the ground didn't matter.

I looked around at the squad. None of them cared. They were too busy making dirty jokes about how Connor kept Bella awake all night. I didn't waste another breath trying to warn them.

Every single person has to pay the tab for the choices they make.

Connor tossed aside a woman who had bled and fought beside him for a decade, all for his manipulative childhood crush.

The squad tossed aside a hardened, loyal veteran for a girl who had never fired a real weapon in her life.

When the curtain finally dropped, I sincerely hoped none of them would cry about it.

The chopper touched down at the edge of a massive, heavily forested canyon.

This extraction was incredibly high-profile. A dozen corporate executives and rescue directors were crammed into the command tent, watching the drone feeds on massive monitors.

When we reached the cliffside overwatch position, I quickly set up the heavy rifle on its bipod. Bella practically shoved me out of the way, throwing her soft, manicured hands over the grips.

She pressed one of her large, doe eyes against the rubber rim of the scope. The other eye was wide open, blinking into the glaring sun.

The director's voice came over the radio.

"Looking good, Apex squad. Not only is Bella a lethal shot, she looks great on the cameras. She really is the face of this company."

I had to bite my tongue to stop from laughing out loud.

Real wilderness operatives sleep in the mud and hike through freezing rain. Nobody has flawless, porcelain skin out here.

More importantly, a trained sniper does not keep their non-dominant eye wide open, exposed to the blinding glare, while tracking a target. It was such a glaring amateur mistake, yet nobody in the command tent seemed to care.

But it wasn't my problem anymore.

Since Bella was their golden goose, they could deal with the mess.

I retreated to the shade of a massive oak tree and pulled out my phone.

Bella didn't even glance back. As long as I was within proximity, she felt entirely invincible, assuming she could just siphon my mechanics.

"Bella, the grizzlies are moving out of the cave. Get ready!" Connor yelled over the comms.

Bella held her breath, radiating absolute arrogance.

"Squad up, dropping in!"

The words ripped out of Bella's mouth without warning.

The entire radio channel went dead silent.

"Bella, what the hell are you doing?!" Connor demanded.

Bella slapped a hand over her own mouth in sheer terror. But the side effect of her parasitic brain-link was brutal. She couldn't just filter out what I was doing.

Seconds later, she started blurting out more gamer slang. "Wiped on landing! Get me a medkit! Loot drop incoming!" She was spewing utter nonsense into a live tactical channel.

Worse than her mouth were her hands.

Her supposedly flawless sniper posture instantly deteriorated into the jerky, panicked movements of a teenager mashing a touchscreen.

She yanked the trigger wildly. Tranquilizer darts flew into the dirt, bouncing off rocks. She didn't just miss the massive charging bears; she nearly put a dart into the neck of our own breacher.

"Have you lost your damn mind?!"

The director was screaming into the radio, his voice cracking with rage.

"Bella, is this a joke to you?!"

Connor scrambled to do damage control.

"I'm sorry, sir! Bella is just a little rattled by the bears! I'll talk her down, just give me a second!"

Then he switched to the private squad channel, his voice a furious roar.

"Bella, this is not the time to play cute! Get your act together, right now!"

I sat under the tree, comfortably swiping on my screen, racking up kills in my game.

Bella looked like she had swallowed a mouthful of crushed glass.

"Connor, I"

"Do not call me Connor! Do you have any idea how high the stakes are today?!"

"If that kid gets a single scratch on him, the billionaire will bury this entire company! And he will bury us with it!"

"I am asking you one last time. Can you take the shot?!"