EMMA COULDN’T EXACTLY remember the last time she’d handled a gun, but it had likely been in college, when she and a bunch of her friends had gone out target shooting. To say she wasn’t adept was an understatement.
Now that some idiot was out robbing businesses, and she was a possible witness, she needed to feel secure. There were so few instances in her life when she’d felt secure, and she was tired of being a victim. She wasn’t sure she could ever shoot anyone, but at least she’d have it as a choice if it ever came down to that.
Luke took her to the outdoor gun range on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. He’d also brought a veritable arsenal of weapons and ammo for her to try out.
“There are smaller and larger guns. Some have a big kick, some not so much. Some are going to be more comfortable in your hands than others.”
She perused them, but they all just looked like guns to her. She lifted her gaze to his. “Honestly? I have no idea. Recommend something.”
He nodded. “I think this Glock nine millimeter is the best choice for you. It’s fairly lightweight, doesn’t have a huge kick, and the trigger is easy. Try it first. If you don’t like it, we’ll try the twenty-two.”
“Okay.”
“First, you need to know how to load it, where the safety is, and the fact that you never ever—”
“Point the gun at another person. I understand. I did do some research, and I do have a certain amount of common sense, Luke. You’re not dealing with a total idiot here.”
He cocked a grin. “Good to know. When you aim at the target, go for the largest part of the body.”
“Why not the head?”
“Amateurs always think you should aim for the head, when in reality the head is harder to hit. Go for the midsection. It’s a larger area and you’ll have a better chance of hitting your target that way. The smaller the area of the body, the more likely the chance is you’ll miss. If you miss, the better opportunity they have to get to you before you fire off another shot.”
“Oh. Good point. Midsection. Got it.”
“Ear and eye protection. Always. The cartridge will eject on the right side of the gun.”
He went through every instruction like three times before he allowed her to start shooting.
“Relax. Above all, relax. Bend your elbows. If you tense up, you won’t hit shit.”
He stood behind her. She laid the gun down and turned to face him. “You’re not going to shoot?”
“I will, eventually. This is about you, not me. I know how to fire a gun.”
“Oh. Of course. Okay.” She picked up the Glock and aimed at the target, her palms already beginning to sweat and her hands shaking. This thing was an instrument of death. One wrong move and someone could be killed.
“Relax, Emma,” Luke said, moving closer to her. “I have confidence in you. You know what you’re doing.”
She took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The kick was bigger than she’d expected and it scared the hell out of her. The gun was loud, too. She laid it down and looked down the range at the target. “Did I hit anything?”
“Yeah. The dirt in front of the target.”
“Oh.”
“Target through the sight at the top of the barrel. And did you even open your eyes when you shot?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That means no. Use your sight. Take a deep breath, and squeeze the trigger gently.”
She picked up the gun and tried again. It was loud—again. And it kicked—again. But at least she knew what to expect this time. She started to lay the gun down.
“No. Keep shooting. Empty the clip. If your intent is to shoot someone, you’re not going to shoot them one time and lay the gun down. You’re going to keep shooting them until the clip is empty.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “Really?”
“Really. If you’re going to own a gun, and you’re going to use it for self-defense, then be prepared to defend yourself to the death, Emma. It’s you or the bad guy. If you’re going to shoot him, then empty the clip into him so you know he’s dead. Otherwise, you might miss and think you hit him, or graze him, and he’ll get up and kill you.”
Empty the clip into him. Okay. This was serious business. She raised the gun and pictured a really bad guy coming after her, determined to do her great bodily harm. She used the sight and focused, took a deep breath, then fired. And fired again. And again, until the clip was empty. She set the gun down and Luke came over.
“Good job. You actually hit the paper this time.”
“Yay!”
“I didn’t say you hit the target, just the paper the target is printed on.”
“Oh.” She laughed. “Obviously I need to get better at this.”
“It’s okay. You did good. I told you, it takes practice. We’ll work on it.”
They did. Luke spent two hours showing her how to load and reload the gun, how to flip the safety on and off, and how to adjust her aim. Fortunately, she wasn’t as bad as she thought, so at the end she had actually managed to hit the bad guy on the target.
And then she watched as he took his turn. As a police officer, he was very adept at shooting. He took a wide stance, and she had to admit that seeing him with a gun in his hand expertly hitting the center of the target each time was kind of—
Sexy. Plus, as she stood behind and to the left of him, she got to look at his butt, which was never a bad thing.
Luke was formidable. Skilled, extremely good-looking, and utterly patient with her. A devastating package to her senses.
“With practice, you’ll improve every time. But you have to practice,” he said as they carried the gun and ammo cases to his truck.
“I hate to admit this, but that was exhilarating.”
“The shooting range is always fun. It’s when you have to face a real-life person that it’s not so much fun.”
She climbed into the truck and put on her seat belt. “Have you ever had to shoot someone?”
He paused, then looked at her. “Yeah. Not as much fun as a paper target.” He started up the engine and backed out of the gravel parking lot.
Luke took her to a gun shop. He told her the dealer was reputable and wouldn’t gouge her on prices. She had signed up for the licensing classes for the following week, and she’d need a gun for those anyway. In the meantime, it was legal for her to keep the gun at her house.
“Fred,” Luke said as they entered the shop.
“Hey, Luke, how’s it goin’?”
Fred was a tall, burly mountain-man type that Emma figured had a stockpile of guns and ammo, just waiting for Armageddon or the zombie apocalypse. He wore a flannel shirt over his bib overalls and had a very long ZZ Top kind of beard. But if Luke said he was okay, then he must be okay.
“Whatcha in the market for today?”
“My girl . . . my friend Emma here is looking to buy a gun.”
Didn’t quite know how to describe her, did he? Emma grinned at that.
“What kind of a gun are you looking for, Miss Emma?” Fred asked, tucking his beard inside his shirt to lean over the pistol counter.
“Uh, I have no idea.” She scanned the pistols in the glass case. “A Glock nine, I guess?”
“Good choice.” Fred took one out and handed it to her. It was unloaded and the trigger was locked with one of those zip-tie things, so she couldn’t do any damage. She felt its weight in her hand and practiced pointing it at a wall.
Luke was right. This gun felt good to her, and since he’d also made her shoot a twenty-two, a thirty-eight, and a forty-five at the range today, she realized this one was the right fit for her.
“Okay, I’ll take this one.”
“She gonna use your discount, Luke?” Fred asked.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d sure appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll ring it up while you start filling out the paperwork, Miss Emma.”
He handed her a long sheet of paper to fill out and walked away.
“Discount?”
“Police officers get a discount. So do their family members.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He swept his thumb over her bottom lip. “Sure I did.”
She stared at him for the longest time, wishing they were alone.
“Paperwork, Miss Emma,” Luke said with a wink.
“Oh, right.” She filled out the paperwork, and once Fred verified her, she paid for her gun and the ammo Luke selected for her.
They were in Tulsa and decided to stop for dinner at a Mongolian place Emma had heard great things about.
“Shooting things works up an appetite,” she said after they were seated.
“Your arm will be sore tomorrow. And likely your hand. You use different muscles to shoot, so you’ll have to build them up. You should shoot at least once a week, until it becomes second nature to you. Most of the shooting ranges offer memberships.”
“Sounds fun. Maybe I can get Jane and Chelsea to go with me and practice. We could become pistol-packin’ babes.”
Luke took a sip of the beer the waitress handed him. “Hmm. A pistol-packin’ babe. I’ll have to get a mental visual going of that. Maybe you in a holster, six shooters on each side. You’d have to be naked of course . . .”
She laughed. “Of course.”
“So, now you’ve got your gun, and you did some shooting. Feel confident you could defend yourself?”
Did she? If threatened with certain death, could she end someone else’s life?
She wasn’t sure.
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
“It’s understandable. Until you’ve been in a position where you feel threatened, you don’t know how you’d act.”
She looked away. She had been in that position before. She had been threatened. She hadn’t been armed. If she had, how would she have reacted? If she’d had a gun in her hand at the time, would she have been able to fire it and end his life?
He’d certainly threatened to end hers. More than once. Sweetly and subtly, and he’d used a soft voice. But the threat had been there.
Leave me and I’ll kill you.
“Emma.”
Her gaze lifted. “Yes?”
“You were somewhere else just now.”
“Was I? Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“I could tell. Do you want to talk about it?”
She gave him a small smile. “Not really.”
“Did Vaughn ever threaten you?”
Sometimes it was like he was psychic. “He threatened to kill me if I ever left him.”
“Christ. When was the last time you saw him?”
“When I had him fired. And he was only a bully when he had me alone. He would never have come after me while I stayed with my parents. And then I went back to school in South Carolina.”
“You never saw him when you were there?”
She shook her head. “No. I haven’t seen him since. I don’t think he ever believed I would leave him. He liked easy targets, women he could control. Once I left, it was over.”
“I hope so.”
She took a drink. “You think he’d come after me?”
“I doubt it. It’s been a lot of years. If he was going to come after you, he would have done it right away. Besides, I’m here to protect you now, so you don’t have to worry.”
She always worried, always had, ever since the day she escaped from Vaughn.
He, too, had once promised to protect her. Only his protection had turned into threats and near imprisonment, to the point she hadn’t known the difference, hadn’t trusted her own instincts, hadn’t been able to believe it when others told her that he didn’t love her, that he was trying to own her, that he was abusing her.
“I’m learning to protect myself.” She’d already experienced someone “protecting” her, and she didn’t care to go through that again.
Luke leaned back and gave her a smile. “Yeah, you are. And you’ll be kick-ass at it.”
And that’s where he and Vaughn differed. Because he didn’t mind at all that she wanted to be in charge of her own protection.
She needed to keep reminding herself that Luke and Vaughn were night-and-day different. And Luke wasn’t going to hurt her like Vaughn did.
Because Luke shouldn’t have to pay for what Vaughn had done to her.
And she needed to move on with her life. She deserved that happiness.