by Loren, Celia
"Right, the cylinder rotates and the round moves into position. And the trigger makes the hammer hit the firing pin. Both at once. But with a single action, you have to do those things separately." I look up at him for approval. "So the single action is good if you need to fire quickly, but it's also harder to pull the trigger."
"Good." He reaches into a duffel bag he brought and pulls out a handgun.
"Why can't I use the gun I saw in the drawer?" I narrow my eyes at him. "Is this, like, a girl gun?"
He laughs. "No, this is not a 'girl' gun. The one in my drawer is a semi-automatic. This," he holds out the one in his hands, "is a .22. What I learned on. I think you should start out with this and then later you can move on to a semi."
I nod. A semi-automatic. That's what the gunman in the store used. The shape was the same as the one in Holt's drawer, but Holt's had silver on the barrel and the gunman's was all black.
"This here is the safety," he says, pointing at a small switch above the trigger. "It's on. You never take the safety off until you're ready to shoot. Always treat a gun like it's loaded. Never raise the gun until you're ready to shoot. And never put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to shoot." He demonstrates, pointing the gun down and away from us.
"Got it," I say, nodding. He eyes me for a moment, then puts the gun on the wooden shelf in front of us that's attached to the dividers separating the shooting stations.
"Stance. Put your right leg slightly in front of your left. Wider." He taps the inside of my left foot with his boot. "Good. Now arms up." He steps behind me, hunkering down and wrapping his body around me, his arms pressing mine in. "Relax your elbows a bit. You don't want them locked. Other people will tell you differently, but I think this is the best stance. It'll help you absorb the recoil better. Stop squirming."
"You're distracting me." It's true. I can feel every muscle of his tensing against me, and suddenly I wish we were back at his house.
I feel his breath at my ear as he whispers: "Focus," and pulls away. I shiver, but do as he says, holding my hands up the way I imagine the gun will feel in them.
He steps back and looks me over. "OK, pick up the gun. Remember what I told you, where to point it."
I nod and reach for the pistol, carefully keeping my finger off the trigger and the gun pointed away from us, down range. It's heavy, but not as heavy as the one in the drawer.
"Now switch the safety off."
I turn the gun to the side and pull it back, suddenly feeling nervous. But I know I still want to do this. I hadn't been planning to ask Holt to teach me to shoot, but when I held his semi in my hands I knew that I wanted to know how to use one. Just in case.
"Make sure you don't move your thumb up like that," Holt says, stepping behind me again. He adjusts my thumb down so that it lies flat on my fingers. "It's OK on this gun, but, look at this semi." He pulls the one I saw in the drawer out of his bag. "Safety's on. See this part here?" He runs his hands across the top. "That's the slide. On a semi, when you pull the trigger, it slides back and will take your thumb clean off if it's up there. So don't get in the habit."
The hair on the back of my neck tingles as I watch him hold the gun. My vision blurs slightly for a second, and I try to blink away the image that forms behind my eyes. A man's hand, covered to the wrist in black fabric, maybe a sweatshirt, and his fingers curled around the base of a gun.
"You alright?" Holt says, putting the semi down on the shelf.
"Yeah, I just…I need to…" I shake my head, trying the get the image out of my head. Sometimes the images from that night…they just pop into my mind, triggered by something around me. Holt reaches down and takes the gun from my hands, switching the safety back on. "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize…but it seems like something's wrong."
"I…I saw something last week that scared me," I murmur. I have to tell someone. I have to. I know I just met him, but I can't carry it by myself. I just won't tell him any details. Besides, Holt doesn't seem like the kind of guy to see things in black and white. "A shooting. Someone got shot." Maybe if I fudge the details, say only one person was shot, then he won't connect it to the Gas Station Murders.
"Oh my god…" he whispers, though he doesn't seem completely shocked. Or at least, he doesn't start screaming, like Elise would have. It's a relief to say the words out loud. "Did you have to file a report and everything?" he asks. He tilts his head slightly, and the sun streams directly into my eyes, blinding me.
"Um, no. It's complicated."
"But you saw the whole thing?"
"I don't really want to talk about it. I…nevermind."
"Nevermind? You just told me you witnessed a shooting! I mean, fuck. Why would you want to learn to shoot after that?"
I shake my head, not quite knowing myself the answer to his question.
He frowns. "Are you in danger?"
"I…no, no. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, I'm glad you did," he says, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and lightly kissing my forehead. "That must have been awful for you."
"It's been a rough week," I admit, laughing softly.
"You wanna get out of here?"
"No, I came to learn to shoot and that's what I wanna do."
"Your call," he says with a shrug, though I can see him watching me with even more caution now.
I take my stance again and pick up the gun, switching off the safety. I look down the range to the target at the end of the dry stretch of grass. It's a man, with an oval-shaped target in the middle of his body.
"Take a deep breath, and when you exhale, squeeze the trigger," Holt says softly. "Be ready for the recoil."
I nod, gazing down the sight to the bull's eye. The target takes the shape of a faceless man in a black sweatshirt, staring me down from the other end of a long tunnel. I take a deep breath, and squeeze the trigger.
My core muscles contract as the force of the shot knocks back into my body, but I stand straight, only blinking in reaction. Now I know why I wanted to come here. Power. I wanted to feel some power. And it feels good.
Holt squints down range at the target. "Nice," he says with a smile.
I roll my shoulders as we walk back to his truck. The parking lot is nearly empty and he parked in the far corner. My neck and shoulders are feeling a little stiff, but other than that, I feel more clear-headed than I have in days. And not just clear-headed…also…high, I think is how I'd describe it.
"I don't think I've been living," I remark suddenly to Holt as he unlocks the truck.
"I don't know if I follow."
"I just…since what happened…" I climb in the passenger side as he gets behind the wheel. "Maybe it was seeing death so…up close, but I just keep thinking that I want to live. Do you know what I mean?"
He pauses. "I think I do."
"I mean, I don't think I've really been living. Maybe for years. Definitely for years. I've been hiding. And I don't want to do it anymore."
"There's a lot of ways to hide," he remarks, staring at the wheel.
I lean across the console and take his face in my hands, wanting, needing, to feel him again. He looks surprised as I kiss him, but when I close my eyes, I feel his mouth opening to mine. I kiss him desperately, my tongue probing into his mouth. I hear him groan and he wraps his arms around me, partially lifting me out of his seat.
I reach my hand down to his crotch, feeling his cock grow hard against my palm. I deftly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, moving to his ear as I unzip them.
"Fuck, Jo," he moans as I nibble on his earlobe and push his pants and boxers down to free his throbbing member.
"I want to taste you," I whisper in his ear. His head snaps to face me.
"You are…very surprising," he murmurs, his grin changing to something more serious. But I don't want to analyze him right now. That's not what I want to do at all. I quickly reach behind me and braid my hair so that it stays out of the way, then glance down at his l
ap and bend down.
His cock is ready and waiting for me, a drip of pre-cum already glistening on the tip. I softly lick it off with my tongue and hear him let out a slow whistle of air as he rests one of his hands on my back. I lick around the tip a couple times, then tuck my lips behind my teeth and take him into my mouth. There's no way I can fit all of him in, but I go as deeply as I can, applying pressure the whole way. I move up and down a couple more times until his shaft is wet, then wrap my hand around him, following my mouth with twists of my fingers. He groans, and I can tell that he's already close.
Abruptly, I move down further, keeping my hand moving up and down his cock, but taking one of his balls inside my mouth. I roll it around and fondly it with my tongue as he moans, then give the same treatment to the other one.
I begin to move my hand faster and faster and return my mouth to his shaft, sucking hard now while I play with his balls with my other hand. My eyes begin to water as he hits the back of my mouth, but I love feeling such a strong man come apart at my touch, reacting to the slightest flick of my tongue. His hand grabs my hair as he begins to cry out.
"Oh, just like that, oh, fuck!"
His dick spasms, releasing warm cum into my mouth. I use it as lubricant to slide up and down a few more times, sucking at his tip to completely drain him. I pause momentarily before I swallow. Well, I've come this far, and I can't say that VD is at the top of my list of concerns just now.
I sit up to see Holt leaning back in his seat, breathing hard with his eyes closed. I wipe my lips with my fingers as he blinks his eyes open.
"Shit, that was…that was really good," he murmurs, leaning forward and palming my cheek with his hand as he kisses me. "Do you want, do you want a tissue or something?" he leans across me to open his glove compartment. I raise an eyebrow as he pushes aside a box of condoms and picks up an old napkin. He glances up at me. "Forgot those were in there. I'm completely clean, I can promise you that."
"Me too. I got tested after I found out Steve was cheating."
"And since then?" he asks, wiping himself off. I pause. "Didn't you get divorced a while ago? You should get tested frequently."
I smile at him. "You sound like my old sex ed teacher. I would have gotten tested…I just haven't, you know, since then. I said last night that it had been a while."
"Yeah, but I didn't think that meant, you know, a year. You haven't had sex with anyone else since you got divorced?" he says, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. I shrug.
"Hey, c'mon, I just told you I was hiding."
"Wait…didn't you meet him in high school?"
"Yeah…"
"Was he your first?"
"Well, yeah."
"So that would make me…I'm only the second guy you've ever slept with?!"
"Is that a big deal?"
"No, no, it's just…um, I didn't think…" he trails off. "Do you have to work tonight?" he asks. I shake my head. "Wanna go grab food or something?"
"Yeah? You don't think I'm some nerd now that you know I've only had sex with two guys?"
"You just gave me a blow job in broad daylight in a parking lot, so no, I would not describe you as a nerd."
Chapter Ten
Holt
"Hey, baby," Brette murmurs, sliding over to me on the couch. The music at the clubhouse is turned up. It's a Friday night, and everyone wants to blow off some steam. It's one of those great parties where no one officially called it, but everyone just kept drifting in and the mood was good and you're exactly the right amount of drunk.
I'm sitting on the sofa on the side of the lounge, watching everyone get loose and thinking of the best plants to start Jo out on. She wants to make a windowsill garden for her kitchen. I glance over at Brette, running my eyes down her body appreciatively.
"Damn," I say, shaking my head with a smile at her handkerchief of a top.
"You like? It's new." She slides my hand down my thigh. "Haven't seen you much the last week or so."
"Bark's got me on a, a sort assignment," I say, glancing down at her finely manicured fingers.
"Mmm. I missed you. No one gives it to me as good as you." She leans in and licks my neck, running her tongue up and into my ear. The woman knows her stuff, can't argue with that. I feel her reach her hand up to my belt. I stop her.
"Not tonight," I say, pulling my face away. She looks surprised, but not hurt.
"You sure?"
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. "Been a long week."
"OK. Well, I'll be around."
I stand up, needing some fresh air all of a sudden. As I walk to the back door, I see Fish staring at me across the room. What does that fucker want? I glare at him and continue outside.
The night breeze is a relief. Whenever my mind gets too busy I can always find some peace outdoors. I glance at the weeds sprouting in the dirt next to the building. My mind immediately returns to Jo.
Maybe basil? Or would that need more sun than her kitchen gets?
Jesus, what the fuck am I doing? The reality of my situation hits me like a brick. I just turned down a fuck with the hottest sweet butt in the club because…because I feel like I have a girlfriend?
Jo is not my fucking girlfriend. Besides the fact that I don't do girlfriends, Jo especially is not my girlfriend. Jo is a witness. Jo doesn't even know that I'm in an MC.
I slam my empty beer bottle down on the stone step of the clubhouse behind me. It shatters with a satisfying crash. Can't believe I let myself start thinking about Jo in that way. For all I know, she could still want to go to the cops, and it would be my job to take her out.
Forget her. Forget her.
I grab the door handle and head back inside. Quickest way to assure myself I don't have feelings for Jo is to fuck Brette, so that's what I'm going to do. That's who I am.
"There you are," Fingers says, stepping out of the lounge in front of me. "Bark needs to see you. In the cave."
I grunt and turn around, heading for the back staircase. I push the metal door open and see Fish sitting next to Bark at the table. This can only be bad news.
"Angel Medina's older brother is out for blood," Bark says without any preamble. "Gonna tell the rest of the club at church but wanted you two to know first since you're closest to it."
"I though Rich said the rest of the cops bought the robbery thing," Fish says.
"They did. And so did most of the Death Dealers. No one wants to start a war between us again. But for Jose Medina…that was his baby brother. I don't think he feels like accepting the rational explanation. Heard he's been ranging around, looking for a stray Hell Hound to pick off."
"We'll spread the word," I assure Bark grimly.
"How's Jo Anderson doing?" Fish asks, leaning back in his chair. I hate hearing him say her name. Must've gotten it from Bark. I smile back at him calmly.
"Like I said, she told me she saw a shooting. Nothing else. But I'm staying on her."
"Just wondering if you're getting a little too close. Saw you turn down Brette up there."
I feel my jaw twitch. "Just because you have to play the brother card with Brette to even get her to give you a hand job doesn't mean the rest of us have a constant hard-on for her."
"So you're fucking Jo?" Fish asks, raising his eyebrows with a cold smile. I glance at Bark but he doesn't say anything.
"Yeah," I admit with a shrug. "Bark told me to do what it takes. So I am."
"She looked pretty cute in that photo. Maybe I should give her a call."
"Alright, enough," Bark mutters. "Both of you. Holt, don't get attached. Wouldn't think I'd have to tell you that."
"You don't," I say, doing my best to keep my tone calm even though I'm fuming. "That it?"
"That's it," Bark says, eyeing me steadily. I turn around and walk back up the stairs. Probably leaving Fish to whisper poisonous nothings in Bark's ear about me.
I walk straight to the bar and grab a bottle of Jack Daniels. I don't feel like fucking Brette an
ymore now. I feel like getting blasted and passing out. And that's what I'm going to do.
Chapter Eleven
Jo
"I was going to wait for Holt, but he hasn't called me back, so I just did it myself," I say, gesturing to my little windowsill garden. "Dill, thyme, rosemary, and basil."
"That's great!" Elise says admiringly, delicately touching a tiny leaf of the young rosemary plant. "I mean, not that he hasn't called you, but that you did it yourself. You've got enough for a Simon and Garfunkel song here."
I laugh. "Thanks. Well, I felt like I was always sitting around, waiting at home for Steve, and I want to make sure I don't do that anymore." I feel a pang in my gut as I say it, though. I'm putting on a brave face, but I have been checking my phone pretty constantly. Holt and I had seen each other or talked on the phone every day this week, and now nothing since last night. I clear my throat. "I chose this window because it has the most sunlight. I read that herbs need a lot. I really liked doing it. Maybe when my lease is up, I'll get a place with some outdoor space."
Elise straightens up and looks me over. "You seem different. You've got a little spark back."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it's been a while since I've heard you talk about the future. Hey, I went on a date with one of those guys from the club."
"How'd it go?"
"Meh."
I grin at her. "I mean…maybe stop meeting guys in clubs? You keep saying you want to settle down…maybe that's not the best place to meet that kind of guy." I refill her wine glass with more Cabernet.
"Where'd you meet Holt?"
"At Billy's. But he flaked on our plans earlier today, so I'm not the best person to follow."
"It seems like you really like him."
"I do. Too much, I think. It's only been a couple weeks and I'm already wondering where he is all the time, thinking about him…"
"Well, he's hot, that's for sure."
"Do you think it's weird that I haven't met any of his friends yet?"
"Nah, it's only been a couple weeks." She glances at the clock on the microwave. "I better get going. I have another date with Grant."
