Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 58163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Precisely.” I laugh at her sarcasm and pull her to me for a quick kiss, then lead her to another door before I decide to press her against the wall and take her right there in the side of a mountain. “Lay your hand right here.”
She frowns but does as I ask. I tap on the screen of my phone, recording her palm print into the security system. When the light blinks green, another door slides open.
“You have access to this door now,” I say as more lights flip on and we step inside.
“Holy. Shit.” She stops and turns in a circle, taking in the weapons lining the walls around us. I’m fully equipped with everything a person could ever need—especially if they’re going to war. “It’s an arsenal.”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath as she turns back to me and stares up at me with confused blue eyes.
“Who the hell are you, Shane?”
“It’s better if you don’t know the answer to that.” I take her hand and walk her to the back of the vault where the bulk of my handguns are stored behind glass in a case mounted to the wall. The ammunition is kept beneath the case in a stainless-steel cabinet. “We’re starting out small and easy. This is a .22 pistol. It won’t have much kickback, and it will fit easily in your hands.”
I take the weapon from behind the glass and offer it to her.
“Shane—”
“It’s not loaded yet. I want you to hold it. Get a feel for the weight of it, how it feels in your palm. A weapon should be an extension of your hand. It’s a tool.”
She does as I ask, careful not to point the barrel at herself or me.
“This isn’t your first rodeo.” My voice is full of surprise as I watch her hold the weapon with the hands of someone who’s done it many times before.
“I took a class once,” she says softly. “But it made me nervous because I am so clumsy. I always worried that I’d hurt someone.”
“You didn’t have confidence,” I reply and retrieve two boxes of ammo for the gun, then take her hand and lead her to the firing range. “Which tells me that whomever you took the class from was shitty at their job.”
“Maybe. I was one of about twenty students.”
“I’m not shitty at this,” I inform her as I set up a target, then flip a switch and send the paper with its black outline down the lane about twenty yards. “In fact, it might be one of the things I’m best at. And we can practice as long as it takes to get you comfortable. I want this to be as easy as breathing for you.”
“We could be here a while,” she says with a laugh.
“I have time.” I kiss her cheek, then reach for two sets of eye and ear protection. “Okay, we’re going to start simple. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“For this round, I’ll load and get you ready to go. But after this, you’ll do it. We’ll also practice doing it quickly. The bad guys won’t wait for you to load a gun.”
“I feel like I’m in boot camp,” she mutters, making me laugh.
“Nah. We’re much more friendly here.” I load the magazine with rounds of ammo, clip it into the gun, and pass it to Ivie. “Here we go.”
I step back to watch her first, to see how much she already knows. Her stance is excellent, feet spread shoulder-width apart, her hands wrapped around the gun, her shoulders down.
Damn, she looks like a fucking pro.
When she empties the magazine, she turns to me.
“I don’t buy that you didn’t do well in that class.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t say I didn’t do well. I just didn’t feel comfortable.”
“Okay, let’s build that confidence.”
* * *
“How do you feel?” I ask her after we lock up the range and head toward the barn.
“I’m okay,” she says.
“Does anything hurt?”
“My hands are tired. Who knew that squeezing a trigger that much could wear out your hands?”
I knew. But I keep the thought to myself.
“We have one more stop this morning.”
“Are we feeding animals?” she asks as I park by the barn.
“No. I don’t have much for animals here. Just some elk, deer, and the occasional mountain lion or bear.” I wink at her, and we walk toward the barn door, which is also secured with a palm plate.
“It feels like your security might be overkill.”
I turn and look at her, then bust up laughing. “That’s exactly what Carmine says.”
“Your brother’s not wrong.”
“The security is necessary. And right now, I’m damn glad I have it to keep you safe. Come on.”
We walk inside, and I’m pleased to see that Curt is already here.
I converted the barn into a massive gym about five years ago. On this floor, we have a sparring ring and weights. The second floor has treadmills, ellipticals, rowing machines, and bikes.