25. Caleb
TWENTY-FIVE
CALEB
Seven looks around the front hall of the mansion with wide eyes.
The marble gleams, and a large light fixture dangles from the high ceiling.
The decor is unchanged from when my grandfather lived here, with the white marble statues framing the front door and several expensive vases on the console table next to the grand stairway.
“This way,” I say to Seven and Vortex. “The gun range is out back.”
Seven clings harder to my hand, pressing in close to my side. “Are you sure I should be here?”
“Yes,” Vortex says without hesitation.
“Even after…” Seven doesn’t specify what he means, but then, he doesn’t have to.
“Yes,” I echo.
Seven follows me, his gaze sweeping over the rooms as we walk through them. I’m not sure he’s ever seen so much opulence in one place before. Even the Roi de Pique, which is elegant, isn’t on this level.
Vortex stays on the other side of him, occasionally reaching out to squeeze his arm.
“How many rooms does this place have?” Vortex asks.
“Six bedrooms, six full baths and three half-baths, a formal dining room, a kitchen with a breakfast nook, a gym, three living spaces, a study, and…” I frown, trying to remember.
“I’ll have to look at the real estate listing.
We haven’t decided yet if we want to sell it or not.
Alice wants to sell it, but she has dollar signs in her eyes.
There’s no real estate she isn’t eager to flip. ”
“Like they do on those home improvement shows?” Seven asks, his brows furrowing. “Don’t they usually need a ton of work?” He eyes our surroundings again. “It doesn’t look like this place needs the help.”
Vortex snorts. “Because it doesn’t.”
The kitchen is large, with two stacked ovens, a separate full sized fridge and freezer, and enough counter space and cabinets to house every kitchen appliance ever invented. On the opposite end of the kitchen island is a spacious breakfast nook with a bay window that looks out onto the patio.
“Some of the bedrooms need a fresh coat of paint, and the furniture will have to be replaced for staging if we plan to sell.” I motion to the patio door. “If you’re done gawking…”
“Why would you need two ovens?” Seven asks, staring at the ovens.
“For the servants to cook enough food for fifty,” Vortex says dryly. He shakes his head, though. “I have no idea. More space?”
“Different dishes might need different cooking temperatures,” I explain.
Seven looks dubiously at me, but he heads toward the patio instead of continuing to inspect everything.
The one thing my grandfather did right with the house was not insisting on a grass lawn. It’s landscaped to suit the desert climate, with local shrubbery and interesting rock features designing a beautiful landscape.
The pool is garish in comparison, but it’s covered now since nobody is using it.
Beyond the pool is the private gun range. We take the designated path, walking past yucca plants and cacti and local grasses.
Seven is wide-eyed the entire time. “I didn’t know the desert could be pretty like this,” he says.
I grin. “Anything can be made beautiful, if you put your mind to it.”
“Even Havoc, I think,” Vortex jokes. “At least, Seven thinks so. Jury’s still out with me.”
Seven finally looks away from our surroundings to look at him, and he smiles. “Havoc is prettier than you are,” he says.
Vortex lightly nudges him in the side with his elbow.
“One of my grandfather’s wives liked xeriscaping,” I explain.
“That means using the local plants that suit the environment. After she left him, Leon didn’t bother paying anyone to redo it into the green water-wasting nightmare that it was before.
Maybe he enjoyed not paying the high water bills or watching the plants wither year after year. ”
The gun range is behind a locked fence, but I open it and direct everybody toward the small storage room. The guns are stored behind another two layers of locks.
I take one of the glocks out and pass it to Vortex. “Vortex is going to teach you all about gun safety first, Seven.” I rummage until I find the ear mufflers.
“First and foremost,” Vortex begins, “always treat it like it’s loaded.
Even if it’s not, pretend that it is. You don’t ever, ever want to point it at anything unless you’re positive you want to pull the trigger.
That means that you don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you’re absolutely ready to shoot, and that you know what you’re shooting, as well as what’s in the periphery.
Even if your target is in your sights, there’s always the chance you’ll miss. ”
Seven is listening closely, but his breathing is coming more quickly than usual. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” he hedges, biting his bottom lip. “I can just watch the two of you. It’s not like I’m ever going to touch a gun outside of this.”
“Which leads me to another point,” Vortex says, his voice gentle. “Don’t ever pull a gun unless you’re sure you have control of it. If someone can take it away from you, they can use it against you.”
“That’s not helping,” Seven mutters.
I walk behind Seven and place my hands on his shoulders. “Breathe, pet. And after you’ve steadied your breath, you’re taking the gun. You need to learn this. Havoc’s training sessions are good, but they won’t help you against a man built like Havoc or Vortex.”
“The whole reason we’re here is to get you comfortable enough to actually use the weapon,” Vortex says. “Because, Seven, if you ever pull a gun on someone, you need to be prepared to use it. No hesitation, no questions.”
Seven glances from him to look up at me, swallowing hard. “I don’t know if I can.”
“If someone is trying to take you back, to put you back through that hell, you damn well can,” Vortex says, his voice surprisingly rough. “You protected yourself once. You can do it again, fuck the consequences.” His voice settles as he adds, “Caleb can deal with those.”
I chuckle and squeeze Seven’s shoulders. “I can and I will. The important thing is keeping you safe.” I let go of him and grab my own gun and the bullets to go with it. “I’ll be practicing with you, since I’ve been told my marksmanship is less than stellar.”
For some reason, that seems to startle Seven. “Really?”
“Really,” Vortex answers for me. “He’s got good accuracy when the target is still, but not when it’s moving. And bad guys rarely stand there and wait to be shot.”
“Can I blame my eyesight?” I joke as I hand Seven the protective gear. I glance out at the range, and I’m glad to see the targets have been set up already, as I’d requested.
I know there are indoor gun ranges in Calamity City, but nothing beats the privacy of being a terrible shot in your own backyard—or a relative’s backyard.
Vortex snorts. “No.” He turns his attention back to Seven. “Okay. I’m going to give you the gun, and you’re going to keep it trained on the ground. While it’s not loaded, we’ll work on your stance. Okay?”
Seven hesitates, looking between us, but then he nods. “Okay.”
Vortex ruffles his hair. “Good. Here goes.” He hands a gun to Seven, gently nudging him into position. “Like this,” he directs.
Seven shifts as he’s guided into the right stance, and I know that with this, like everything else, he’ll pick up on it quickly.
Once Seven has practiced the stance until he can hold it to Vortex’s satisfaction, we head over to where the targets are. There’s a small fence set up to mark the shooting spot. A table and several chairs are nearby, too, for spectators.
“Try aiming at that target,” I suggest, motioning to the largest and closest of the targets.
The targets are all of varying sizes, and placed unevenly throughout the field.
Only a few are human shaped, but the hardest one is both sized like a person and far enough away that you have to truly understand bullet trajectory.
I have never managed to hit that far away target.
Vortex stands behind Seven, adjusting his stance again. “All right,” he says. “Bring the gun up here, aim at the target, and squeeze the trigger.”
There are no bullets in the gun yet, but we’d agreed ahead of time that Vortex would do everything in his power to make sure that Seven feels comfortable holding a gun — never mind shooting with it — before we move forward.
Seven lifts the gun, and even though his hand is shaking, I see it when he pulls the trigger. He jolts like he’s expecting some sort of negative response, but his shoulders relax when nothing happens.
Vortex walks him through it another few times, still gently urging him into the right position as he does, before he finally nods. “Good. All right. I’m going to show you how to load the gun.”
I pass the bullets to Vortex. “It’s important to learn this part too,” I say, releasing the magazine from the glock. “Let’s practice getting the magazine out a few times.”
It ends up being good practice for me too, because Vortex makes an exasperated sound and has me changing how I’m holding the gun for better safety.
“Even when unloading the gun, you want to make sure you’re only aiming it at the ground,” Vortex says.
“What if we’re trapped in the casino and crouching down behind a bar, and if I don’t reload the gun in three seconds I’m going to get hauled into the vault?” I ask with a slight smirk.
Vortex rolls his eyes. “Fine, then you do it quickly and quietly, and if you shoot your foot in the process you’ll only have yourself to blame.”
Seven watches us, and it’s only when Vortex focuses back on him that he carefully unloads and loads the gun again mostly on his own.
“Now it’s live,” Vortex tells him. “You always want to check, double check, and triple check to make sure the safety is on. I know I’m harping on this, but people have accidents with guns too often to be careless. It’s still a deadly weapon.”
Seven swallows hard, then he nods. “It’s scary,” he admits.