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Then I watch Falcon shoot through his magazine, hitting dead center every damned time.
Falcon is still shaking his head when he takes off his protective gear. “I can’t fucking believe it.”
“Vinnie was a good shot,” I say. “Dad always said he was better than he was. He also said I had potential.”
“You’ve got more than potential,” Falcon says. “What about Michael?”
“Michael was…different.”
“What you mean?”
“Michael abhorred violence of any kind. He hated what our family was into, but once Vinnie left, he felt he had no choice but to stay in the family. He married Miles’s cousin, and then ended up dead. He never got the chance to be happy, to live his life. To be with someone he truly loved.”
“Was he in love with someone else?”
“I don’t know.” I purse my lips. “I always wondered if Michael might’ve been gay.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And that’s why he got killed?”
“No.” I scratch my arm. “Nobody really cares what your sexuality is as long as you play your part. It’s possible, though, that he wasn’t sleeping with Elizabeth, and that was an issue. The idea behind alliances is that you have children. They anchor the families together.”
“Was he effeminate or anything?”
I shake my head. “Not all gay men are feminine, Falcon. And not all straight men are alpha and macho.”
“Hell, I know that. One of the guys in the cellblock over was gay, and he was nearly as tough as I am. No one laid a hand on him.”
“Then you understand that there was no way of knowing without Michael telling us.” I sigh. “I don’t really know. It was a thought I had. His high school girlfriend always seemed a bit unsatisfied with him. They never really made physical contact when they were together, at least not in front of the family. And then later, there would be these unexplained absences. He’d say he was going out but gave no reason. This was after he finished school, so it’s not like our parents could force him to tell them. But I always wondered what exactly he was hiding. He didn’t like violence, but that’s not why the thought occurred to me. It’s something I’ve wondered about for a while. Just a feeling. And whether he was gay or not, he didn’t get to live his own life, and that’s what’s the saddest.”
“It’s very sad,” Falcon says. “As for hating violence, most normal people hate violence. I hated what I had to do to survive in prison, what I had to do to protect others in prison. I hated every bit of it.”
I look at Falcon’s target. “But you’re a great shot.”
“That’s part of being a Texan. You learn to shoot around the time you learn to walk around these parts.”
I chuckle at his joke.
“You may laugh, but I’m not exaggerating that much. I was about ten when my dad taught me to shoot, and the next year he taught Robin and Raven.”
“Really?”
“Hell, yeah. Women need to shoot more than men do sometimes. Guns are the great equalizer between the sexes.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Which is another reason why most families like mine don’t teach women to shoot.”
“Well, you’re a natural.”
“Like my father. And Vinnie.”
“Did Michael ever learn to shoot?”
“Yeah, he did. I mean he was a guy in our family, so he had to. But he was never quite as good as Dad or Vinnie. I think he probably just hated it.”
“If he was as much of a pacifist as you say he was, then yeah, I imagine he probably did.”
“Is it wrong that I like it?” I ask.
He smiles at me. “It’s not wrong at all, Vannah. Shooting is an art. You’re a natural, and you’re only going to get better. And I’ll feel a lot better knowing you can protect yourself.”
