“Asshole,” she grumbles at me, not the least bit under her breath.
No, it’s intended for me to hear her.
But I ignore it.
Harper has been through enough this week. I don’t need to add more drama to her list of shit that’s bad.
I have my own list of problems, mainly college and the fucking disciplinary letter that I received from the Student Conduct Office. I have a meeting with them on Monday afternoon. Nova promised to accompany me as a witness, and while she didn’t see the assault, she is the one being harassed by that pig, Henry. Her testimony will go a long way.
“Get your head screwed on and focus, Harper.” I suck in a sharp breath, trying to keep my temper even. The girl has a sailor’s mouth, and I don’t need to get worked up over her.
She’s not my girlfriend or wife for that matter.
Thank God.
Not that I don’t love Zeke, but I’m not husband material. To me, having a family is a complication when you’re mafia. They get in the way.
“I am focusing,” Harper says as she takes the gun and her breathing quickens.
She’s wearing headphones to block out the sound of gunshots, and she mutters something, this time unintelligible.
“Safety off,” I remind her.
“I know how to shoot a fucking gun,” she bites at me and then cocks off the safety, aims, and uses two hands to steady the shot, trying for the target. She hits the white paper at least but is nowhere near the body.
“Well, that’s something.”
She tries again.
And again.
More crappy shots.
The thing is she hasn’t been shooting for months, or even years. I took her to the shooting range and taught her the basics recently, once.
This is only her second time. I should be going easy on her, but I can’t. Not when she needs to be able to protect herself, defend her family, should the need arise again.
“Reload and do it again.” I’m firm and she huffs and does as she’s told, but she’s still off.
She’s never been a good shot.
Luca, at least, had a little better aim.
“Are you looking down the sight?” I remind her.
“I am, but the gun’s recoil is forcing me to miss every damn shot.” She’s getting frustrated, which isn’t helping.
Luca watches with patience, but he’s been quiet, letting me take the lead. “Can I make a suggestion?”
Exhaling, I nod at him. “Go for it.”
“Work on hitting the target at six feet. Then we move it to fifteen and twenty-five feet.”
Luca is right, not that I’d give him credit for that advice. The target is at twenty-five feet currently because that’s where it was already set. I’m not training her for a home invasion. I’m getting her ready to work for Dante. She’s going to need decent aim to do her damn job.
But perhaps putting the target closer, letting her aim and hit it at six feet, will also be far more encouraging.
We make the changes, and Harper aims and shoots again, this time hitting the edge of the outline. It’s not perfect, but already, she’s vastly improving.
