24
Jess
G.I. Joe For Realz
“Guns?” I attempt to pull him back as we move through the front door of a‘tactical practice range’. “A shooting range? Kane, stop!”
“Keep walking, Blondie.” He doesn’t slow, he simply hitches a backpack onto his shoulder, clasps my hand, and yanks me forward. “We’re on the clock. I’ve gotta work tonight, and you’ve only got three days to learn how to shoot the person you’re actually aiming for.”
“Is this punishment for when I shot at you? Because I’ll say sorry. I won’t mean it, but I’ll say it if you let me leave again.” The man behind the counter looks up at my words. His brow quirks high as Kane snorts. “I knew what I was doing!” I snap. “I purposely missed you. If I wanted to hit you, I would have.”
“No.” He stops at the counter and slams down a stack of hundred-dollar bills. Instantly, my eyes narrow. I’ve never asked straight out, but going by the way Kane lives, I always assumed he was kind of broke. “Spence. You got a lane open for us?”
“Depends.”Spenceplaces a half-dismantled handgun on the glass cabinet and snatches up the wad of cash. “She gonna aim, or she gonna shoot?”
“She’s gonna do both. By the time we’re done this week, she’ll be good enough to go to war.”
“You got a war coming, Bish?”
“He knows your name?” I tug on Kane’s hand. “Kane Bishop! How does he know your name?”
“Everyone knows my name, Blondie.” He looks over his shoulder and grins. “It’s usually the first thing I say when I meet someone. Spence, we’ll start with the targets, but I wanna move her through the sims as soon as possible. She’s a danger magnet.”
“She bringing danger to my place? Because insurance costs more every time someone fucks up.”
“She’ll be fine. The only person who might get shot is me, and I won’t file a claim, so don’t sweat it.”
“I won’t shoot you,” I grumble. “Maybe.”
“How many rounds?” Spence asks. “Fifteen?”
“Nah, we’re gonna be here till she nails it. Keep us stocked and I’ll send you a Christmas card.”
“What kind?”
I’m imagining all the different kinds of Christmas cards available in store; pop up, musical, glitter, the kind with a hole in the back that someone pokes their middle finger through.
But Kane answers with, “.45 Glock. She already used mine. She shot off a round and didn’t kill herself.”
“You don’t wanna try something with a little more kick?”
“She won’t have access to anything else with more. Blondie?” He turns to me. “Are you left or right handed?”
“Umm–”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. We’re doing the .45, but we need more rounds. When she can group them, I’m taking her into the yard.”
“What yard? What are you talking about?”
“She’s in heels, Bish. You want her simulating in heels?”
“Nah. I got her clothes and sneakers.” He takes the backpack from his shoulder and pushes it at me. “Bathrooms are over there. I need you to get changed.”
I peel the zipper open and pull out jeans, sneakers, spare underwear. “You went into my apartment? When?”
“Today. Hush. Go get changed and we’ll get sorted out here.”
“You got me panties, too? You expect me to shit myself today,Bish?”