Chapter 15
After the meeting with Mom and Greg, Colt takes me back to their club and not to my apartment.
Colt shoved a helmet and a more heavy duty leather jacket at me when he showed up to take over for Priest in the morning.
Riding feels more natural now, so I’m starting to feel less like an imposter on the back of their bikes.
Especially when we’re waved through the gate, and I manage to hop off the bike like I’ve done it a million times.
Colt looks down at me and asks, “You know how to fire a gun?”
The question shatters my little pretend world of knowing what I’m doing. “Um… kinda? I got a little training for a show once, but I was just in the background. They sort of taught us how to look like we knew what we were doing, not to actually shoot anything.”
“Fuck, that sounds more dangerous than not knowing anything,” he grumbles. “Okay. Come with me.”
Last night’s conversation with Priest is still rattling around in my head.
This is the first time I’ve spent time alone with Colt, and I’m having a hard time figuring him out.
His presence in the meeting with Greg was the only reason I had the courage to push back as much as I did.
Colt treated me like I was the one calling the shots, and the only other person who comes close to that is Roger, but Roger’s known me since I was a kid. It’s different.
“Where are we going?”
“Shooting range. I don’t want you carrying, but I want to know that if we hand you a gun, you’ll know which end is which.”
I follow him into the school building. “Is this where you live?”
He nods. “We’ve been knocking down walls and converting the old classrooms into rooms for the guys as we need them. It’s not a bad setup really. The cafeteria’s still in place, so there’s room to hang out and cook, and it’s handy to have a gym and locker rooms already built in.”
Not too different from when I visited friends in the dorms at college.
He leads me down some stairs and out the back of the building.
Music and the sound of weights hitting the floor come out of a pair of open double doors.
I glance inside and see the gym he mentioned.
Several guys are in there working out. It’s nothing fancy, but from the look of all the men I’ve seen so far, it’s clearly working for them.
A little ways away from the building, they’ve put together an informal shooting range. There’s a covered shooting area with chairs and equipment set up. A fence separates the shooting zone from the field where targets are set up at the end of marked lanes.
I didn’t think they were lying when they said there were women attached to the club, but I didn’t expect to see them for the first time while they’re clearly packing up from practicing at the range.
One is short and curvy, with blonde highlights in her brown hair, and the other is taller and more slender, peering at us curiously through chunky glasses.
The shorter of the two waves. “Hey Colt. Jess and I’ll be out of your way in a sec.”
He nods. “Paige.”
“Who’s this?” The girl with the glasses cocks her head and looks at me.
“Hold up.” Paige’s eyes go wide as she jumps in before I get a chance to introduce myself.
“Quinn Callahan! She plays that demon girl on the show I told you to watch. Please, tell me you have insider information on season two!” Her voice gets more and more excited as she goes on.
“Wait, I knew you were sort of local, but what are you doing here?”
“It’s um… complicated.”
“Hi, I’m Jessica, but you can call me Jess.” The other girl holds out her hand with a grin. “Please excuse Paige, she has a six month old and is either way too much online because she’s up all night, or completely out of the loop.”
“Well, long story short, someone tried to kidnap me and I hired Priest, Colt and Sinner to keep it from happening again.”
“Huh. It went the other way for me,” Jess says.
Colt huffs a laugh. “I’ll get us set up, don’t go anywhere.”
A lightbulb goes off over Paige’s head. “Wait a minute. You’re the one I got the sheets and stuff for! I can’t believe Priest held out on me. Gah. I wondered why he didn’t just pick stuff up from the communal stash. Men leave out all the important parts.”
“I wish I could thank you by telling you I knew what’s going to happen on the show, but none of us know yet either. I think our chances are really good for another season, though.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Jess laughs. “Now you’re in trouble. If it doesn’t pan out, she’ll sic the Outlaw Sons on your production company.”
“Don’t worry, I’d let you know ahead of time so you can arrange an alibi. We like you.” Paige winks.
“You don’t even know me,” I say with a little laugh.
“No, but there’s a reason you’re here,” Jess says. “Living here has taught me to trust my instincts, and if Colt brought you back here to practice, whatever’s going on isn’t just business.”
Colt’s eyes narrow.
Jess doesn’t flinch. “I’m going to say I told you so.”
He snorts. “Whatever. Leave the lockbox open.”
“Knock yourselves out. Come on, Paige. Let’s go rescue Anne from your demon spawn.”
When I turn back to Colt, he’s watching me with a considering look that turns into a scowl. “This way.”
“They seemed nice,” I venture.
“Paige and Jess? Yeah, they’re trouble, but mostly worth it, I suppose.” He’s crouched down, sorting through a lockbox with various weapon-y looking things in it.
“Just mostly? High praise.”
Colt actually laughs. It’s a nice sound. “Well, I’m not one of their men, so mostly’s as far as they’re going to get.”
“So they’re old ladies?”
“Look at you with the lingo. Yeah, that means they’re sworn to a brother, or in their case, a few.”
“Really?” I turn to watch as Paige and Jess walk around the building, chatting together. “But Paige has a baby. How does that work?”
He blinks up at me with eyes just a few shades different than my own.
“Don’t look at me like that. I know how babies are made. I mean, doesn’t that cause a problem? I don’t understand how half the time it feels like you guys are all ‘grrrr, mine’ and the other half you’re acting like it’s totally normal for a girl to have two husbands.”
“Three,” he corrects. “Two’s probably fine, but they both have three.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.”
“Just a little.” Colt scrubs a hand through his shaggy hair. “Maybe you should talk to them if you want to hear this kind of shit.”
“Sorry. I’ve always asked too many questions. It drives Mom crazy, too.”
With a shake of his head, he waves for me to come closer.
He points at a black pistol that’s lying on a tray in front of one of the lanes.
“Here. This is a good, light one to start with. It’s unloaded, but you always, and I mean fucking always, treat it like it’s loaded.
No playing with it, no looking down the barrel, no finger on the trigger until you’re ready to squeeze. Clear?”
Like I’m not terrified of it already. I don’t make a move to pick it up. “They taught us that for the props, too, because there’ve been accidents.”
“Good. We’ll work on your stance first. Pick it up. It’s not gonna bite.”
It’s heavier than I expect, cold and rigid in my hands. I make sure to keep the barrel pointed away at the ground. “Okay.”
“Both hands. Wrap one around the other, make sure you have a solid grip on it. Aim at the target.” There’s a paper target attached to a wall built with hay bales. It has the outline of a torso on it with different lines and colors. I aim for the center.
He adjusts my stance, making me square my shoulders and fixing my arms. “Here, like this. Spread your legs a little.” He emphasizes it by batting his boot against the inside of my foot. There’s something about the strong, straightforward way he orders me around that I don’t exactly hate.
Colt gets behind me, reaching around to guide my arms. With my back pressed against his chest, it’s a lot more intimate than I expected. I swallow hard, trying to concentrate. Something tells me the biker behind me is a lot more dangerous than the gun in front.
“Alright, look past the sights, right at where you’re aiming. It’s like trying to draw a straight line. Easier if you keep your focus ahead of where you’re at. See it?”
I try to do what he says, looking right at the center of the bullseye. He covers my hands with his own, prepared to absorb some of the kick with his own strength. There’s a subtle, woodsy scent coming from his skin. I didn’t notice it earlier when we were riding together.
“Good. Now squeeze the trigger gently. Doesn’t take much, just gotta hold it steady.”
I draw a breath, steeling myself not to flinch.
Sliding my index finger onto the trigger, I pull carefully.
The mechanism clicks loudly, making me jump back into Colt with a surprised squeak.
I’d completely forgotten we didn’t load it yet, and now I feel stupid and embarrassed.
It takes a moment before I step forward again.
He chuckles. “If you wanted to cuddle, you coulda just said so. That’s why we started empty. Do it again.”
I’m glad he can’t see my face when he says that.
We take up position again, and now that I know what to expect it goes more easily.
“Okay, I’m gonna load it now.” He pulls the gun gently from my fingers and pops out the magazine. When he’s done, he hands it back, and I very determinedly point it at the ground in front of me. “This is live. You hold in your hands the power to kill someone. Never fucking forget that.”
This was a terrible idea. I don’t think I could ever bring myself to actually pull the trigger on someone.
“Back in position.”
“But—”
“Back in position,” he snaps with more force. Terrified, but also a little excited, I obey. “Good. Now aim, just like you did earlier.”
His arms come around me again, and this time his grip around my hands is firmer.
“Brace like I showed you. Draw breath and center yourself. In a real situation, you’re not gonna get time for much of that, but that’s why we practice. The more you internalize it, the more natural each step becomes. You ready?”
No? “I think so.”
“I’ve gotcha.”
He breathes slowly, and I find myself falling in sync.
Using his solid presence behind me for support, I gently squeeze the trigger.
The gun goes off in a deafening explosion.
I whimper, and if it wasn’t for Colt’s strong hands around mine and his immovable body behind me, the kick probably would’ve landed me on my ass.
The sharp tang of gunpowder fills the air.
“Oh my God.”
“You did good. Everyone jumps their first time.” His praise fills me with warmth.
I didn’t exactly grow up with a lot of it, and I probably shouldn’t crave it as much as I do. Maybe it’s the gravel in his voice, or that this is so far outside my comfort zone, but it’s… nice, despite how scary this is.
“I didn’t even hit the target.”
“Doesn’t matter yet. Again.”
“Don’t let me go.”
“Not gonna. Not until you’re used to it.”
The comfort of Colt’s chest against my back and the warmth of his rough hands around mine keep me steady.
Even after several shots and a reload, he stays a warm, steady presence behind me.
I find myself leaning into him more than I need to, and every time I squeeze off a shot, he murmurs encouragement into my ear.
The first time I actually hit the target without him basically doing all the work, I let out a squeal of joy and put down the gun, turning to make a snarky comment about being naturally talented.
Colt is right behind me. I knew it, but I didn’t think about how right behind me he was, and find myself practically nose to nose with him.
“Did you see?” I whisper.