I made it to Riot. She was just standing there in front of her lane. Her gun was placed down, and when she saw that I was approaching her, she turned her head, looking up at me.
“When we going to actually shoot it?” she asked.
You could see the thirst in her eyes that she had to pick this gun up and start spraying. This was probably the most that she’s ever said to me at one time. Her ass didn’t speak, and she liked to blend in the back, so that she wouldn’t be in the middle of the mix.
“What kind of gun you holding, Riot?” I asked her. I wanted to see if she knew her shit, simply because she was so eager to shoot this gun.
“This a Glock 19. Nine-millimeter,” she responded, knowing her shit.
I nodded at that. I had bullets inside the camo jeans that I was wearing, so I pulled them out, tossed the small box onto the shooting bench, putting my eyes on her.
“Load it,” I instructed, since her ass wanted to jump the gun. I wanted to see how much she knew.
She smirked at me, as if this was a piece of cake for her. I watched her as she pressed the magazine release, and she caught it with her hand before it could hit the shooting bench. I watched her as she slid rounds inside the magazine, doing it one by one. Her thumbs moved quickly as she did it, too. Once it was filled, she placed it back into the grip, slid it back, and she lifted the gun. Her stance was perfect, and she had it perfectly aimed at a target that was in front of her. She looked at me in the corner of her eye.
“Let met shoot it,” she voiced.
The way she so confidently loaded the gun, cocked it back, showed me that she had the perfect stance, and that she wasn’t afraid of the gun, I really wanted to see what her aim looked like. Because of that, I stood on the side of her, reached down below, so that I could pull out some of the target sheets. I loaded it up, allowed it to hang, and I used the button on the side, so that the target sheet could slide back. I didn’t make it where it was too close, but I also didn’t put it too far away. It was a pretty good distance, and with that, she should be able to take on nothing but headshots.
“Go ahead,” I told her, and as if I just put a million dollars in her hands, I finally saw her ass smile.
She proudly smiled, and for fifteen seconds straight, she shot at the target paper, emptying the clip, and this girl let out nothing but head shots. No one in the room expected for the gun to go off, so you could hear some of the women in the distance screaming out of fear.
When Riot finished shooting the gun, she sat it down on the loading bench in front of her, and she looked over at me, as if she was waiting on me to tell her how good of a job she did. I pressed the button on the wall, that was on the side of her lane, that controlled the target paper, and it came rolling our way, so we could both see the damage that was done to the paper, seeing that she shot in a perfect area, and that all the bullets had gone there.
“You got good aim. I’ll give you that. Don’t shoot shit else, though. I only let you do that because I could see it in your eyes that you wanted to let those bullets fly. Everybody in here gotta be able to move at the same place. Trust me, we’re going to have our day where we can come in here, or go out back, and shoot as much as we want to, okay?” I asked her.
“That’s cool,” she said, looking me in my eyes, and leaving it at that.
In the lane right next to Riot, there were two other girls, who looked to have been about the same age as Riot. They were talking amongst themselves, but they were talking shit though. Talking shit about Riot. Claiming that she was showing off. If I could hear them, I knew that Riot could hear them. When she turned her head to look at them, I expected her to say something slick, probably curse them out, go out of her way to prove to them that her balls were bigger than them, but she didn’t do it. I’m glad she didn’t say anything, either because Lord knows that I was tired of intervening in petty ass arguments that would happen throughout this program.
Some of these girls were worse than my fuckin daughters. Zuri, and Oakley would bicker all fuckin day, and I found myself breaking up petty arguments with them all the time, but the shit that I was breaking up over here didn’t compare to what I was dealing with at home. It was ten times worse here.
We eventually left out of the range about thirty minutes later. From there, we went back into the training room, where I spoke with the girls a little bit, letting them know what else was on the agenda for the rest of the week. I let them know that things around here were about to pick up a little bit. We were getting ready to start exercising, and next class, we would shoot the guns, and not just learn how to hold them, get a feel for them in their hands, and just practicing their stance like we did today. We were going to go all in with it next class.
Once I finished talking to them about that, I dismissed them, and instead of staying inside of the classroom, while they spilled out, I decided to walk out with them, leaving out of the warehouse, and standing up front.
A few of them walked up to me, asking me a couple of questions. While I was addressing one of the questions that one of the ladies asked me, I noticed a black Chevy Impala come speeding down the backroad, and I already had a gun tucked at the back of my waist, and I was ready to pull my shit out and use it if I had to. My trainers were out here with me as well, and like they worked for the SWAT, they pulled their guns out, keeping it near them, just waiting to see the kind of timing that the person in that car was on.
The car eventually came to a stop, and there was an angry black man that had gotten out. He was about 5’8” in height, and he was a chunky dude. I wasn’t sure if he was lost or something, but judging by the way he was looking around, he just might be exactly where he thought he was because it almost was like he was looking for someone.
“Can I help you, nigga?” my aggression matched the aggression that was in his eyes.
“Uzi, it’s okay. It’s okay. I got it,” it was Tamera that said this to me, coming from behind me, and she had a look in her eyes, as if she was pleading for me to go back over to where I had been standing, and drop it.
Not only could I see the yearning that she had for me to drop it, but there was fear. Probably fear because this man was standing here.
I called this shit out the first time that I met her. Everything was telling me that she was being abused at home. It was the way she was dressed at our first meeting, covered up, as if she was hiding scars. Plus, she lacked so much confidence. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes that day, when she was standing up in front of the class, introducing herself.
“Yeah. She got it. Take your ass back over there!” he barked at me, and I looked around because this man obviously didn’t know who the fuck he was talking to.
“Nigga, what? You understand that your standing on my land right now? My playing field? I control the traffic over here, meaning I’ll blow your motha fuckin head off, and I’ll be able to walk away with a clean slate too. What the fuck you got going on, man?” I was pissed, as I stood in his face, ready for him to make one wrong move, and I swear to God, I was going to swing and kill his ass.
I couldn’t prove it, but I could tell that he was at home, putting his hands on his beautiful wife, and if I hated anything, I hated a woman beater. I will literally be ready to kill a man for doing that. I remember when my little sister Nyne was dating her baby daddy years ago, and he found himself putting his hands on her, and I combed the streets looking for him, ready to kill that bitch. Mind you, I had just gotten shot up not too long before that, and I was still recovering, but I was ready to defendmy sister’s honor because that’s just how much I didn’t play that shit when it came to a man putting his hands on a woman.
“Yeah whatever. I came here to get my wife. She won’t be coming back down here no more. I don’t know what the fuck this shit is. I don’t know if this some kind of cult, or what the fuck is going on, but nah. She a wife, and a mother. She don’t got time for any other extracurricular activities,” he barked, sounding ignorant as fuck.
“Uzi, it’s okay. Please, don’t get in the middle of this. I’m fine,” Tamera said, defending this man, and that shit was making me angry.
