Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Okay. Great.”
“Do you need any instructions on how to use the gun?” he asked.
God yes.
“I’m okay,” I said, fully aware of my time crunch.
I might have paid for an hour, but I wasn’t going to be able to stay that long. And I wanted as much practice as I could get in that time.
“Alright. If you change your mind, Amos is here. Or I’m out front,” he offered. “Seth, by the way.”
“Lana,” I said, then winced, remembering he knew that.
“Have fun, Lana,” he said, giving me a warm smile, then moving away.
I waited for him to leave before I reached for the gun and the magazine, finding my hands trembling slightly.
I’d never held a gun in my life.
Hell, I felt freaked out about the pepper spray I carried, always paranoid I might somehow accidentally use it on myself or someone nearby.
That said, I was acutely aware of being watched. Not just by Amos, but by the multitude of cameras all around the place.
Seth was probably watching me right now.
And, for one ridiculous moment, I worried if my ass looked bad from this angle or if my bra was creating one of those stupid fat rolls because it didn’t fit quite right anymore.
I shook that away, loading the magazine into the gun. Which, yeah, was a pretty idiot-proof thing, then placed the gun back down, so I could pull the target closer.
Sure, I’d like to get to a point where I could hit it from the back of the range, but that was not my reality yet.
“Baby girl,” a deep, silvery voice called, making me jolt and turn, finding Amos looking right at me. “Ears.”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry,” I said, quickly pulling the headphones over said ears, giving him a smile, and turning back around.
There was no more putting it off.
I wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my shorts, then reached for the gun.
I’d watched a lot of videos about how to hold it, especially for a beginner, someone who doesn’t know how much of a recoil it might pack.
So I held it in one, but stabilized it with the other.
Widened my posture.
Aimed off the tip of the barrel.
Slid my finger to the trigger.
Then pulled.
I am proud to say I didn’t squeal. Though, yeah, that was more difficult than I had anticipated. But the bang had startled me, making me jolt, but I hoped to Amos and Seth that it just looked like I hadn’t anticipated how much the gun would make my arms jump at the little explosion of a bullet.
Speaking of the bullet.
It didn’t go anywhere near the target.
It wasn’t even in the same zip code as the target.
“Great,” I said, sighing, then steadying myself and trying again.
That one was no closer.
Neither were the next three.
But by the sixth bullet, I was actually hitting the white parts around the sides. Not anywhere near the actual person, mind you, but getting closer.
There would be a learning curve. I’d reminded myself of that several times.
The important part was feeling confident in my use of a gun, not so much having super accurate aim. At least not at first. That was the ultimate goal eventually. If I could scrape together the money to come again.
I was thirty-five minutes into my hour when my phone buzzed in my back pocket.
My alarm.
On a sigh, I put down the gun, removed the magazine, then my eye and ear protection, placing them where they belonged.
“Ah, excuse me, Amos?” I called, wincing a little. I used to work customer service, and I hated when people called me by my first name like they knew me. But it wasn’t like I could call him a pet name.
“Yeah, baby girl?” he asked, not looking up from his book. “Need something?”
“I’m actually done, but I’m not sure what to do with the gun now,” I admitted.
His gaze cut up then, going to the clock instead of me. His brows furrowed a bit, but he said nothing.
“Come on. Let’s bring it out front,” he said, leaving his book, and hauling his huge frame off of his chair, then moving behind my lane, waiting, it seemed, for me to pick up the gun and magazine. Which I did, feeling weird holding them as we moved out of the range.
“How’d it go?” Seth asked when we moved out front.
“Well, I might have put a dent in his golf swing, but I wasn’t doing any serious damage,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe next time,” I added, putting the gun on the counter.
“We hope to see you again,” Seth said, sounding like he genuinely meant it.
He was about to say something when a door opened and a crew of men came in, each carrying little boxes.
Their own guns, I assumed.
“Ah, thanks,” I said, giving him a smile. “You too,” I added to Amos who gave me a nod.