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I wasn’t sure what that meant for a real-life application, though. If he was in a life-or-death situation, would he overthink it? Would he miss enough to risk not only his own life, but his brothers’ lives as well?
There was no way to actually answer that question, though. Not until it was put into practice.
That, I was worried, was something I might need to bring up to Huck.
“So, how’s the new place?” Velle asked, making sweat trickle down my spine.
I didn’t want Velle’s attention focused on me.
If there was anyone who could unravel my half-truths, it was Velle.
“A mess,” I admitted. “Don’t think anyone did any upkeep on it in several decades. Leaving from here to go try to clean up the yard,” I added. “Easier to do when the sun is down,” I added.
It wasn’t a lie.
I was going to do some yard work.
But mostly because I wanted to get a little dirty, a little sweaty. It would look good in the pictures and short video clips I would post on my profile.
“The work seems to be good for you,” Velle said, and it seemed like a careful way for him to say I’d put on about ten pounds since I’d bought my place, and started fixing it up.
“Yeah. Who’d’ve thought that manual labor would be a better workout than the gym?” I said, taking the gun from him, removing the magazine, then tucking both back into the carrying case I’d brought out with me.
When I turned back, I found his intense gaze on my face, but he quickly shook off the look.
“Not staying for a drink or two?” he asked as we started our way back to the clubhouse.
“Think I’ll leave the fun to you guys,” I said. “If I let it go any longer, I think my backyard could be classified as an actual jungle.”
He had to sense the lie.
But he said nothing.
Maybe I’d do him a similar favor and not mention his overthinking the shooting. Maybe I could just dedicate more time to working with him. Even if a part of me felt squirrelly at the idea of being near him more than necessary now that I had shit I didn’t want everyone knowing.
By the time we got back, half a dozen club girls had shown up, and were already in the pool with York and Levee.
“Have fun, man,” I said, giving Velle a nod.
“You too,” he said with that same intense stare.
I went ahead and ignored it as I made my way toward the garage, storing the carrying case away, then getting on my bike and peeling off.
I didn’t move far.
In fact, the proximity to the clubhouse had been a major selling point. Along with the steal of a sale price, thanks mostly to the disrepair the place was in.
I wouldn’t pretend to know everything there was to know about home repair, but I found that you could figure just about anything out if you watched enough videos on it. And were willing to drop a few grand on the tools for the job.
It was far enough from the clubhouse to give me privacy, but close enough that I could be there in something like seven minutes if shit was going down.
It was a classic old bungalow style house—rectangular, with a center pitched roof, and a steep overhang of a front porch.
The white fence in the front was missing pickets. And the remaining ones were either crooked, cracked, or rotted.
It was on my list.
So were the loose penny bricks that made up the front step and the base of the porch.
