Dirty Deals by Nicole James Page 0,12
peacefulness. I can’t tell you the last time I heard birds chirping; now I sit on the porch with my morning coffee and listen to them chatter.”
“Didn’t figure you for a morning person.”
“I’m not. I mean, I didn’t use to be. But lately, I’ve been waking up with the sun. Strange, huh? Maybe it’s all this fresh air.” I slide my hair to the front over one shoulder hoping my hand doesn’t shake with my sudden nerves.
“Life I lead, I’m more of a night owl.”
I nod. It makes sense. “You probably don’t roll out of bed until mid-afternoon. That used to be me, too.”
“You got the gun?”
“Yes, and two boxes of ammunition for it.”
“Should be enough.”
I walk to my car and retrieve it off the seat.
“First lesson. Never leave your weapon in your car. It’s gonna do you no good out here if you’re in the house. Besides, some kid could find it.” He scans the surrounding land. “Probably not an issue out here, but you never know.”
“Right.”
He takes it and lays it on the picnic table that sits in the yard. Then proceeds to demonstrate how to load and unload the weapon, and once he’s satisfied I’ve got that part down, he glances around. I wonder what he’s doing when he walks to the garbage can to pull a discarded pizza box out. He trudges across the yard with it to a tree near the property line. Beyond is a wide field and a tree line about two acres away.
He draws a long Bowie knife that I hadn’t noticed from a sheath on his belt, tucked under his leather vest. He holds the box up to the tree and stabs the knife in the top, pinning it to the trunk. Then he walks back.
“Think you can hit that?”
I judge the distance. “I don’t know. It’s pretty far.”
He takes my hand and leads me closer. I can’t deny the jolt that zings through me at his touch. I like the way his big palm closes around my smaller hand. I almost hate it when he releases me.
“Always keep the safety on until you’re ready to shoot.”
I nod.
“This your strong hand?” He takes my right.
“Yes.”
He puts the gun in my hand, positioning my fingers just so, curling them around the grip and pushing my index finger to an extended position along the side of the gun and off the trigger. “Always keep your finger off the trigger until you’re prepared to pull it.
“Okay. Got it.”
“Feel good?”
“Yes. It’s heavier than I remembered.”
“Get used to the weight of it in your hand. You need to be comfortable with it.”
“Okay.”
He steps behind me and lifts my arm. “Put your weak hand around and under your right hand to steady the shot.”
I do as he says.
“The slide is pushed back by recoil, so keep your thumbs clear of it.”
“Okay.”
“The recoil can be wicked, so always fire it at arm’s length.”
He drops his hands to my hips and puts me into position.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now look down the sight. Line up the shot. Keep your focus on the front sight. Aim dead center. Aim small, miss small.”
“Okay.”
“Use your dominant eye, but keep both eyes open. That’ll give you better depth perception.”
“All right.”
“You’re not gonna be able to hold the gun completely still while aiming, that’s just a fact. But don’t grip it too tightly, that’ll help with your aim.”
“Got it.”
“Ready to try a shot?”
Am I? I’m not sure, but I’m not going to admit that. “Yes, I guess so.”
He steps away. “Okay, place the pad of your index finger on the trigger. To shoot, you’re going to apply slow, steady pressure until the gun fires. Your breathing can move the handgun just enough to throw off your shot. So take a deep breath, exhale slowly out your mouth, and squeeze the trigger. Go ahead.”
I squeeze the trigger.
Bam.
Not even close.
He grins. “This time try relaxing.”
I breathe in and exhale.
Bam. I miss again.
“Okay, let’s try some follow through.”
“What’s that?”
“Prevents you from jerking the gun before the bullet has left the barrel. Improves your accuracy.”
“What do I do?”
“After you fire, don’t lower the gun immediately. Instead follow through on the shot for a couple seconds. Keep squeezing the trigger and hold the target in your sight.”
Moving to stand behind me again, he puts his hands over mine to steady them and holds them there. His arms around me feel so protective and comforting, and for a moment I’m lost in the feeling. The scent of his leather vest surrounds me, and