The first shot I fire jolts my heart. My arms buzz from absorbing the impact of the explosion, but I don’t break from my position. I’m noteven sure what I’m waiting for. Maybe for someone to tell me that I did something right?
“Ezra, baby,” Cain murmurs.
Something flutters around in my chest. I focus on my target, spotting the hole I made in the neck. An absolute rush comes over me. Like that destructive, negative energy churning inside of me was just blasted out of the gun in my hand.
Aiming again, I fire until I run out of bullets, only missing one shot to the head.
When I glance over at Rev, I beam at the surprise in his face. And when I look at Cain, there’s only pride as he gives me a slow smile.
“Huh.” Rev slams a loaded magazine into his gun and cocks it. “Honestly thought you’d be better suited for knives. I wanted to see you go off like a little ninja cat.”
“I like sharp things, too,” I say.
“Oh, kitten. Youaretrouble,” Rev praises, waggling his eyebrows at Cain.
Cain sighs. “Let’s stick with the basics first. He hasn’t been with us that long.”
“And he’s already showing considerable promise. That bonus check can come anytime.” Rev clips more loaded magazines onto his belt. “Guy was born for this.”
Not true at all.
I was molded. Shaped by experiences I didn’t choose. I was dealt a horrible hand in life, and now I’m going to make sure shitheads that hurt people are wiped from the earth.
“Now that you’ve got a feel for the gun, let’s make some more corrections.” Cain motions me back up to the firing line. “A hard thing toovercome is the urge to grip the shit out of the gun with your dominant hand and control the trigger.”
Again, he moves into my space. I love that he towers over me. I fiddle with my lip ring, allowing him to touch me freely. He rests the handle of the gun between my thumb and index finger on my right hand and helps me wrap my left hand around my right fingers.
“Now, smoothly pull the trigger back until you hit resistance.”
My hands shake as I do, my body bracing for the blast.
“Nothing’s going off until you ease that finger back more, okay? Try again.”
He slips my ear protection over my ears, then steps aside. When I pull the trigger this time, I see the difference proper form makes.
“Holy shit.” I stare at the hole in the target’s forehead. Who knew this could be such a thrill? I’m already obsessed. “Can I do this all the time?”
Cain chuckles. He leans in to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “My beautiful, destructive little tornado.”
“God, you two are cute,” Rev says, holding up a gun in each hand.
Flashing a grin, Cain nods me over to the table to reload as Rev shoots up his target. Then he sets me loose again after correcting my postureand grip.
I shoot for hours, not satisfied until I’m able to cluster my shots. My arms quiver from effort, and I take that as my sign to rest. I can’t stop smiling like a fool.
“Hey, pretty boy. Want to watch me slaughter your man in a little friendly shooting competition?” Rev asks.
Sucking down a big gulp of my coffee, I hop up on the edge of the table. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Cain runs a hand through his hair, which seems to enjoy rebelling against his styling pomade. One lock of dark hair curls over his forehead. It’s obscenely hot.
Rev spins one of his pistols around his hand. “Cain thinks he’s a better shot, but he’s dead wrong.”
“Quit your shit talking and take your fucking shots,” Cain retorts. He cracks his knuckles as he moves to the wall of more intimidating guns, removing what Rev told me was an AR-15 Platform—Cain’s favorite gun.
The way Cain handles it, running his large hands over the black steel, shouldn’t have me burning up on the inside, but I like that he takes time to appreciate details.
“Nope. No way,” Rev calls out. “Handguns only.”
