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Two white bags are sitting on the table with two large cups of coffee and a shallow black box with a purple ribbon. “What's in the box?” I ask.
“Let's eat our breakfast, and then we’ll talk.” He digs into the eggs sitting on a white plate in front of him. I grab some coffee and also fill my plate.
“You’re still thinking about last night, aren’t you? That fucking note.”
“Yes,” I admit, not having touched my food. “The truth is, I'm afraid of what he will do. Ty is used to getting his way, and he has the means to get himself out of trouble,” I reply, staring down at the table.
Jett reaches over and puts his hand over mine. “Well, I do too, sweetheart, and I will do anything in my power to ensure you’re protected. Why don’t you open the box?”
With shaking hands, I pull off the ribbon and open the box. Inside is a small purple and black handgun. I look at Jett, wide-eyed, not sure what to say.
“It's for protection,” he says, placing his hand under my chin and forcing me to look at him. “I’ll teach you how to defend yourself,” he says, leaning in and kissing my cheek.
“I've never even held a gun before, unless you count a Nerf gun,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“It's a Ruger 9mm Luger, and I think it's the perfect size for you. Of course, you’ll be taking the gun safety course and getting your concealed weapon certificate first,” he says.
I nod, looking back at the gun. “It is kind of pretty, you know?” I say.
He smirks and bites his bottom lip. Leaning forward, I kiss him. “Thank you.”
He nods and takes a sip of coffee. “Do you have plans today?” he asks.
“No, I'm off work and all I was going to do is laundry.”
“Good. Get dressed and we’ll go to the gun range. You’re going to need practice.”
27
Cami
The ride to the gun range is quiet; we are both lost in our thoughts. All that I can hear is the roar of the bike’s engine. I'm nervous as we enter, but the adorableness of him with the ear muffs on makes me giggle.
Jett motions to me to put mine on before he proceeds to start shooting. I stare in awe at Jett as he fires off a clip into a paper target. The accuracy and speed in which he delivers his shots is amazing. I have to remind myself he’s done this before. In war, and probably with the club. I watch intently, trying to overcome the fear I have of guns. The intensity of the way he shoots is a turn on, and the way his muscles tense when he pulls the trigger makes my body tingle.
He turns and winks at me while reloading the clip, and my insides turn into mush. Drawing in a deep breath, I fan myself with my hands. After he fires off his last clip, he comes over to me. “You ready?” he asks.
“Sure,” I reply, my voice shaking.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart.”
“I'm not afraid,” I reply.
Jett raises his eyebrow and nods. “Ok, if you say so.”
I now stand in front of Jett, aiming at the target. The subtle hint of his cologne fills my nose as he places his hands over mine, showing me how to hold the gun properly.
“Now just take your time, it’s better to learn how to shoot slowly at first, and then fast,” he says, backing away from me.
I nod and try to concentrate. I fire once, wait a few seconds, then again. I fire six rounds all together and Jett looks at the target.
“Three misses, not too bad,” he states, emphasizing the too.
“Argh, I suck at th
is.” I sigh.
“Hey, don't say that. Nobody is good the first time around, it takes practice,” Jett says with a smile.
