Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“You up for some target practice?” he asks.
“Always.”
I choose my firearm, load it, put on my ear and eye gear, and shoot ten bullets straight in the heart of the bullseye.
“Damn, Sav. Who taught you how to shoot?”
“Dad, to be honest, but I was out of practice. Then Falcon did a couple weeks ago, but he says I was a quick study.”
“I’ll say.” He squints at the target. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
I shrug. “I guess it comes naturally.”
“Mikey was a terrible shot,” Vinnie says. “But I was always good.”
He loads up his gun, and shoots ten, right in the heart of his own bullseye.
“You’re as good as I am,” I say. “Maybe better.”
He chuckles. “I’ve been shooting for twenty years, Sav. You’ve been shooting for what? Two weeks?”
“Mostly true. I’m not sure why I’m such a good shot.”
“You should be entering contests,” he says. “There’s a lot of money to be made in shooting contests. Especially here in Texas.”
“Maybe…”
“I’m serious.”
“Vinnie, I can’t even begin to think of anything like that until we take care of all this other stuff. Until we free me from the McAllisters, free Falcon from the county jail.”
“He’s in his hearing right now,” Vinnie says.
“I know. That’s why I wanted to do some target practice. Get my mind off of it.” I look down at the gun in my hand. “I never thought about it before, but shooting makes me feel… I don’t know. Stronger. Like if I’d had a gun, I could’ve gotten away from Miles McAllister.”
“You did get away from Miles McAllister,” Vinnie says. “You didn’t need a gun. All you needed was your wits.”
“And my projectile vomit,” I say dryly. “And Falcon to save my ass when I got trapped in a different bedroom.”
“Hey, it all worked out,” he says. “I’m going to go another round.”
I nod as Vinnie reloads his gun.
I load mine up, and together we go through a hundred rounds.
When we’re done, he takes off his headgear and nods to all the empty shells on the floor. “We probably should have saved these.”
“Nope,” I say. “Falcon says we’ve got enough ammo down here to get through another war.”
“So I suppose he wants us practiced and ready.”
I nod. “Let me show you the gym now.”
“Yeah, I need to stay in shape.” He stretches his arms above his head. “I kept my muscles toned and strong except for those six months I spent in the monastery. I did what I could there, but that was more a journey of self-discovery and internal reflection.”
I look him up and down. “You look good, then. You’re broader than I remember.”
“That’s because I was only a little over eighteen when I left. I was strong and muscular, but I broadened over the next several years.”
“Mikey was never as big as you,” I say.
“I know. God…” His face twists. “If only…”
“Don’t go there,” I say.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a minute before speaking again. “I can’t help it. I try not to be sad. The whole monastery thing really helped me. But in the end, I have to live with the fact that what I did was selfish.”
“It’s not selfish to not want to be a criminal,” I say.
“Yeah, I know. I truly do.” He sighs. “Still… He was my brother.”
“He was my brother too.” I grab his arm. “But I’ve got to tell you, Vinnie, it’s good to have you back. I lost two brothers to this family. I’m glad I could at least get one of them back.”
He pulls me into a hug, and I succumb to his brotherly embrace. I’m reminded of what it felt like when my father would hug me. Of course, knowing what I know now, I realize a hug from him will never feel the same way again.
I pull back. “Falcon taught me some self-defense. He’s got me on a regimen to tone my own muscles up. But we’re going slowly, because he doesn’t want me in pain.”
“He’s a smart man. You want to show me what he’s taught you?”
“Absolutely.”
I lead him into the gym in the basement. The center of the room is open, dedicated to bodyweight exercises and stretching. Interlocking rubber mats cover the floor, providing a forgiving surface for high-impact activities or the occasional dropped weight. This is where Falcon taught me self-defense, and this is where I’ll show Vinnie.
I turn to face him, a wide grin spreading across my face. “I’m about to change your whole perception of your little sister.”
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “All right, I’m all eyes.”
I gesture for him to come closer. “First thing he taught me was stance and balance. You need a solid base, like this.” I position my feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. “It makes all the difference whether you’re throwing a punch or avoiding one.”