The garage isgrey and cold, not a place I would normally wish to hang around, but shortly after getting up this morning, Fenrir informed me that today was to be my first shooting lesson.
I’ve no doubt this won’t be my calling in life.I’ve never had the desire to handle a gun, and if I’m honest, I despise them.But if it puts his mind at rest that my safety isn’t just in his hands, then I’ll happily oblige.After all, I’m the one who sent Willa away and left Fenrir as a solo operative.
Yet, he’s the reason I’m here in the first place.I can’t help this thought overriding everything—his culpability in all of this.But then all I have to do is look at his face to remember why he did what he did.Why he felt the need to avenge his family.
A text arrived from Willa in the early hours of the morning, informing me that she’d made it to Marta, who cried when she saw her.They’re still monitoring Marta and the baby, and I reassured Willa that they’re all in the right place if they need to take action.She sent me a heart emoji and said she’d keep me updated.
“Have you spoken to Markus?”I ask Fenrir as he stacks boxes of varying heights at one end of the garage, then places disposable cups he found in the kitchen on top of the boxes.
“Yes.”The one-word beast is back; last night’s runaway tongue has been locked up.I blame the whisky.
“What have you told him?”
“As little as possible.”
“Are they any closer to settling this war?”
“Markus just said they were making progress, but fuck knows what that means.”
Wiping his hands down the front of his pants, Fenrir makes his way over to me.He looks the figure of fucking finery today in his black combat trousers and skintight black T-shirt.It’s impossible not to blush.
He pulls a gun from the back of his waistband and holds it out to me.There’s a second when I imagine what these hands have done, how he’s taken lives with the curl of his fists and the pull of a trigger.How dangerous he can be.Is.Yet, I don’t feel scared.I’ve never been afraid of him.
He must see the surprise on my face, as he thrusts it forwards and says, “It’s not going to bite you.”
“Yeah, but I might shoot your foot by accident.”
“Not with the safety on.”
I smile and take the gun from him.
It feels strange, like I’m not meant to be holding something like this, something that can take a life so easily.
“It’s lighter than I thought it’d be,” I say, turning the weapon over.
“Weight, ease of use, compactness,” he says.“Guns have come a long way.But I don’t want you to think about the gun.”He takes a step back.
I’m not thinking about the gun.I’m thinking about him, the soldier, the Hellhound, the killer.He looks all those things today and more.
“There’s a ton of things to learn about firing a gun, but I’m going to focus on the basics.The first is stance.I’m looking for power.Something that’ll anchor you to the ground.The best for shooting is a fighter posture.Think boxing.”He steps closer and points at my feet, telling me where to put them before reaching for my waist, but then he stops and looks at me.
“Can I…?”I presume he’s asking if he can touch me, which feels strange, as he’s put his hands upon me many times before.But that was always in the line of duty.This is different.
“Sure.”I shrug, trying to give off an air of nonchalance when inside I feel nothing of the sort.
As he slips his hand around my waist and twists my pelvis into a forty-five-degree angle, I try not to think about his hands on my body, the command of his words, and our proximity.This is serious stuff, and I want to learn.This shit could save my life.
“You’re right-handed, so your left leg needs to be forwards and your right leg slightly back.That way, you have balance both front and back.See?”He moves my legs, then pushes me forwards and then back, showing me how grounded I am now that I’m standing in the correct position.“Good,” he says, and my insides unfurl, wanting him to add a“girl”on the end, before reminding myself this isn’t one of my smutty books.
“Now we need to look at your grip,” he says, and I gulp.“The way you hold a gun depends on what type you’re firing.For now, I just want you to grip it as tightly as you can.Firearms are powerful.They kick.They jump.So you need to hold it like you’re never going to let it go.Let me see.”
I raise the weapon and grasp it like he just said.I feel stupid, but he nods, seemingly impressed so far.
“The next is sight.There’s front and back.You can’t focus on both sights and the target, so for now, I just want you to concentrate on the front sight.Here, let me show you.”He takes my hand and pulls it level with my eyes as he slides his body snugly against mine.
He’s so warm, the heat from his skin making my hands sweat, and I worry I’m going to lose my grip on the gun.
“Okay, look here.”He taps the front sight, and I focus on it.“And last is the trigger.”
