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She repeated the steps he’d shown her.
Then he stepped behind her, raising her arms toward the targets and whispered the rest of the instructions in her ear. She couldn’t help but be affected by his body pressed up against her back.
“Disengage the safety by pushing down on the safety lever at the top rear of the gun.”
“Blood, kiss her neck. Women love when you kiss their necks,” Sandman suggested. Bam. Bam. Bam. He fired at his target in rapid succession. “Just not when they’re driving,” he added.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“And you’re in the backseat.”
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“And they don’t know you.”
Bam. Bam.
Jessie tried to hold back the laughter, her body shaking. “He’s a good shot, isn’t he?”
Blood snorted. “His greatest talent is finding places to sit down.”
“Why you gotta be the worm in my tequila?”
“Ignore him. He ate paint chips when he was little,” Blood instructed.
Sandman lowered his gun, taking offense to that last comment, and objecting. “My mind is like lightning.”
“Yeah, one brilliant flash and its gone.”
He turned, looked at Jessie and said in a low, conspiratorial voice, “He loves my ass. Don’t let him fool you.”
“I’ve stopped listening, why haven’t you stopped talking?” Blood asked him.
Jessie was giggling so hard, she could hardly keep her arms up and the gun on the target.
Blood lifted them back up. “There’s gonna be plenty of distractions when you’re shooting, you can’t let them get to you. Pay attention.”
She tried to pull it together.
“Chamber a round.”
“Do what?”
“Pull back on the slide on top of the barrel to load a bullet into the firing chamber.”
She did it.
“Now aim down the sight at the target.”
“Okay.” She focused in on a blue wine bottle.
“Place your index finger on the trigger when you’re sure you have a target and are ready to shoot.”
“Okay.”
“You pull the trigger one time for each shot you fire.”
“Okay.”
