behave,” she promised. He could hear her smile as she laid her head against his back.
“Yeah, right.” Buster laughed as he turned over the engine. There was no more talking over the rumble. He pulled out into the sparse traffic and Caroline held on tight. She lifted her head once they'd started to move. Normally, he wasn't a fan of riding with a passenger, but Caroline was different from anyone else. She held him tight, leaned into the turns with him.
When they finally came to a stop at the warehouse where Buster had met with Manuel, she hopped off and removed her helmet. “This is our final destination? It's like the start of a horror movie. What are we doing here?”
“You're going to learn how to shoot.”
“Wait, what now?” She frowned as he dismounted and opened the storage compartment.
“This is a Glock 30. It's a .45, so it's going to have a bit of a kick.” Buster second-guessed the choice, but the only other option had been a gun that had belonged to Missy, a sleek silver .22. While it might have been the better choice, he didn't want Caroline to even hold anything that had been Missy's. The bitch had been toxic. Her things had to have been tainted by it.
Caroline's eyes were wide, but she moved towards him. “You really think I need to know how?”
“Yes,” Buster replied. He waited for her to ask why, but she didn't. Instead she pressed her lips together and studied the gun like it was going to turn into a snake and bite her. “You want to know the first rule?”
“Please,” she replied.
“If you pull this gun on someone, you better be prepared to use it. A gun isn't going to diffuse a situation, it's going to escalate it. Got it?” Buster had never taught anyone to shoot before. He barely remembered learning himself.
She let out a shaky laugh. “I expected you to say something about never pointing it at anyone, but that makes sense. Do you think that I'm going to have to make that choice?”
“I'd rather that you never had to make that choice, Caroline.” The idea of her taking a life didn't sit well with him. Even if it was self-defense, it would change who she was. “But there is a possibility, and I don't want you to not know how to protect yourself.”
“Alright. Show me.”
She was an eager student. Buster explained the basics, how to load and unload the clip, how to switch the safety on and off. “It's heavier than you think.” He handed it over. “I want you to brace your wrist with your opposite hand. Otherwise, the kick back is going to throw your aim completely off.”
“What am I shooting at?”
“Shit. Give me a minute.” Buster looked around. Ideally, he should have found something larger than the beer bottles he collected. “Alright. I'm going to line these up.”
“See, this is the moment where I should shoot the bottles as you put them out and reveal that I've known how to shoot since I was ten years old.”
“Really?”
“No. But that would have been pretty cool. Got to say, I'm a little scared but also sort of excited. So, I just what? Point and shoot? I'm kidding. I know that I've got to line up the shot, squeeze the trigger, not pull it.”
Buster finished setting up the bottles. “That's a good start.” He came up behind her. “Don't lean back and away. That's good.” He watched as she instinctively put one foot forward. “Now, raise your arms and square your shoulders, lock your elbows.” Before he could tell her anything else, she squeezed the trigger.
The shot went wide, hitting the side of the warehouse. “Fuck. I can do better than that. And also, ouch. That kicks like a fucking mule.”
“Try breathing this time.” Buster placed his hands on her waist. “Inhale deep and release slowly as you squeeze the trigger.”
“I was breathing.” Caroline huffed but she did as he asked. This time, the shot winged one of the bottles. “I hit it.”
If she'd been aiming for center mass, it would be a debilitating shot. “That was
“Yeah, right.” Buster laughed as he turned over the engine. There was no more talking over the rumble. He pulled out into the sparse traffic and Caroline held on tight. She lifted her head once they'd started to move. Normally, he wasn't a fan of riding with a passenger, but Caroline was different from anyone else. She held him tight, leaned into the turns with him.
When they finally came to a stop at the warehouse where Buster had met with Manuel, she hopped off and removed her helmet. “This is our final destination? It's like the start of a horror movie. What are we doing here?”
“You're going to learn how to shoot.”
“Wait, what now?” She frowned as he dismounted and opened the storage compartment.
“This is a Glock 30. It's a .45, so it's going to have a bit of a kick.” Buster second-guessed the choice, but the only other option had been a gun that had belonged to Missy, a sleek silver .22. While it might have been the better choice, he didn't want Caroline to even hold anything that had been Missy's. The bitch had been toxic. Her things had to have been tainted by it.
Caroline's eyes were wide, but she moved towards him. “You really think I need to know how?”
“Yes,” Buster replied. He waited for her to ask why, but she didn't. Instead she pressed her lips together and studied the gun like it was going to turn into a snake and bite her. “You want to know the first rule?”
“Please,” she replied.
“If you pull this gun on someone, you better be prepared to use it. A gun isn't going to diffuse a situation, it's going to escalate it. Got it?” Buster had never taught anyone to shoot before. He barely remembered learning himself.
She let out a shaky laugh. “I expected you to say something about never pointing it at anyone, but that makes sense. Do you think that I'm going to have to make that choice?”
“I'd rather that you never had to make that choice, Caroline.” The idea of her taking a life didn't sit well with him. Even if it was self-defense, it would change who she was. “But there is a possibility, and I don't want you to not know how to protect yourself.”
“Alright. Show me.”
She was an eager student. Buster explained the basics, how to load and unload the clip, how to switch the safety on and off. “It's heavier than you think.” He handed it over. “I want you to brace your wrist with your opposite hand. Otherwise, the kick back is going to throw your aim completely off.”
“What am I shooting at?”
“Shit. Give me a minute.” Buster looked around. Ideally, he should have found something larger than the beer bottles he collected. “Alright. I'm going to line these up.”
“See, this is the moment where I should shoot the bottles as you put them out and reveal that I've known how to shoot since I was ten years old.”
“Really?”
“No. But that would have been pretty cool. Got to say, I'm a little scared but also sort of excited. So, I just what? Point and shoot? I'm kidding. I know that I've got to line up the shot, squeeze the trigger, not pull it.”
Buster finished setting up the bottles. “That's a good start.” He came up behind her. “Don't lean back and away. That's good.” He watched as she instinctively put one foot forward. “Now, raise your arms and square your shoulders, lock your elbows.” Before he could tell her anything else, she squeezed the trigger.
The shot went wide, hitting the side of the warehouse. “Fuck. I can do better than that. And also, ouch. That kicks like a fucking mule.”
“Try breathing this time.” Buster placed his hands on her waist. “Inhale deep and release slowly as you squeeze the trigger.”
“I was breathing.” Caroline huffed but she did as he asked. This time, the shot winged one of the bottles. “I hit it.”
If she'd been aiming for center mass, it would be a debilitating shot. “That was
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