Page 93 of Blue-Eyed Jacks
“What if Shock takesherand not you?”Gina didn’t bother sugarcoating her statement.
That scenario was my worst nightmare.
My grip tightened.I followed Gina’s directions and tried to absorb everything.When it came time to fire at the little paper target down range, I pulled the trigger, thinking of his ugly face.
And missed.
There was a lesson there.Life isn’t easy.It doesn’t go as planned.Actions you take to protect yourself don’t always work.I knew that lesson well.I tried again.This time, I took more care in lining up the sights with the target.I hit the paper.
Each time, I got a little closer.
Each time, I learned another lesson.Gina was right there by my side, correcting my mistakes and, more importantly, reminding me what was at stake.
Near the end, I tried picturing Shock’s face inside those circles.And missed again.But when it was Jackson’s face in them, I hit the big black circle in the center every time.Go figure.
Then it was Zoe’s turn.
I pinched my lips between my teeth, worried every second of the lesson.Unlike me, Zoe had no ghosts from the past messing with her head.She fired true, even hitting the center of the target once.Gina squashed her celebration by reminding her where she was and what she had in her hand.Then dared her to hit it five more times.
Which didn’t happen.Zoe’s demeanor turned serious.
Finally, Gina pulled the targets in about fifteen feet and switched Zoe to a lighter gun.
“Her aim is loosening up; that’s a sure sign she’s tired.”
I nodded, not really understanding much more than my daughter was pushing herself too far.“We should stop.”
Zoe set the new gun down, defeated.“Just once?Please?”
I’d been expecting a fight, not the plea in her voice.“Once.”
The corner of her mouth went up.Gina pointed out the changes in weight, firing mechanism, and loading before Zoe adjusted her ear protection and signaled she was ready.
With the closer target and the lighter gun, she put all ten rounds into the black circle.Four clustered near the center but slightly high and left.
“The gun is so small and light when you pull the trigger; it’s kicking the front to the left slightly.And your left hand isn’t doing anything because there’s no space for it to help stabilize it.”Gina checked the gun and then showed Zoe how to stabilize it better.“One more clip so you can feel that pull.”
I frowned.
She caught the tail end of my expression before I masked it.“Last one, Mama Bear.”
Zoe readied to fire, but one of our bodyguards interrupted.“Gina, get them into the bunker, we got company.”
Said bunker was under a false floor in the last shooting bay.
We scrambled to get hidden, but despite the walls and the fake floor rattling as Gina slid it in place, I could make out the distinctive rumble of motorcycles.I prayed it wasn’t Shock.I also prayed that our security team kept their cool and their lives.The last thing I wanted was for more people to die because of me.
Zoe rubbed a red mark between her thumb and forefinger.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s just a blister, Mom.”
From the guns.My right hand was raw in the same spot.“It’s a good thing we stopped.”I smiled as if to reassure her this was all normal and we were going to be okay.
The bikes sputtered to a halt.There was muffled conversation, just loud enough to indicate someone out there was upset and throwing their weightaround, but it didn’t match the tone or pitch I dreaded.The footfalls from heavy boots tromped closer.
“Get ‘em out.”
