Chapter 5
“Who are you looking for?” Kaylynn asked me. “You’ve been watching the front door for a minute, and I’ve never seen you up here this long.”
I ignored my cousin as I pulled out my phone and pretended to be busy checking emails. The truth was, I was waiting for Romi to walk through the door. I hated the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about her fine ass. Something happened between us at Maceo and Shar’s wedding. Not only did I sit with her for the remainder of the reception, I danced with her. I danced. A nigga didn’t dance.
Then here she came flashing that pretty ass smile at me and being her goofy self, and I folded quicker than a crackhead doing something strange for a lil’ piece of change. My people spent the whole fucking night watching us and whispering shit. The family group chat was going up, and by the time I checked my messages, I had a hundred and fifteen text messages.
The women were fawning over how good me and Romi looked together while the niggas were roasting my ass.
“Look at this no rhythm having ass muthafucka.”
“Big ass stiff as fuck.”
“Looking like he’s from the land of the jolly green giants with her short ass.”
“He’s gon’ break her little ass. Ol’ swole, Latrell from White Chicks looking ass nigga.”
“Once you go black, you’re gonna need a wheelchair.”
The shit went on and on.
To make matters worse, I felt the soft spot forming for her when she asked me to check her house to make sure it was safe. That shit was sad. Pregnancy was supposed to be a beautiful, stress-free time, and here she was worrying about a fuck nigga being in her house.
That was why I had my guy pull up to sit on her house that night. He lived in the same neighborhood, so it was nothing for him to pop over. When I checked in with him, he said he’d seen the same car roll through the neighborhood about three times before disappearing.
It had to be the baby daddy. He’d gotten the license plate number and ran the tags for me. It came back to a Patrick LaStrange. I thanked him for the information and made a mental note to have Jaeda check him out.
“So you’re ignoring me?” Kaylynn asked, mushing my head.
“Looks like it.”
She kissed her teeth. A few minutes went by before I heard the bell over the shop door ring. Looking up, I saw a fresh-faced Romi walk in, looking fine as hell. Today, she was dressed in a loose-fitting black jumper with one of the suspenders undone. Beneath it was a white tube top. On her feet were a pair of white canvas shoes. Her locs were still in the same style from the wedding. Diamond studs and a matching teardrop necklace accented her look.
Kaylynn nudged me. “So that’s who you’re waiting on, huh,” she jested.
“Shut up. I’m not waiting on her. She has an appointment.”
“You never wait on your other clients. I always have to page you for them. This one must be special. First the wedding, now this.”
“Go to hell, Kaylynn.”
I slid from behind the counter to meet Romi in the middle of the store. She smiled softly as I approached her.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning. How was your appointment?”
“Me and baby are good. Thanks for asking. And thank you for having someone sit outside my house last night too. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s nothing. I mean, you’re growing a whole human. You need your rest. You did rest, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
Our gazes locked for a moment. She swayed slightly from side to side, looking as cute as she was. I bit back a smile at the thought.
“You ready for your session?” I asked.
“Yes. My sister tried to bombard her way into coming, but I had to put my foot down. She’s… she’s a lot at times. No filter. Says what’s on her mind. Loud as hell.”
“Shiiit, she would fit right in.”
“I figured as much at the wedding. Now she would have been the life of the party. I could see her and Shar being friends. She absolutely would have tried to hook Renay up with your brother or cousins.”
“One of them would have taken the bait. Come on, let’s get you prepped and ready.”
I led her toward the back, where the training rooms were. As we passed Kaylynn, she offered Romi a smile. As soon as her back was to her, Kaylynn made kissy faces at me. I stuck up my middle finger and continued on my way. Once I went over all the release forms and safety precautions, I helped Romi get situated in her gear.
“So we use the safety glasses to protect your eyes from ejected brass casings, ricocheting fragments, powder residue, and any potential mechanical malfunctions that could potentially send debris flying toward your face at a high speed. We wouldn’t want to mess up this pretty face.”
She blushed as I secured the glasses onto her.
“Got it.”
“Now the earmuffs are common sense. Gunfire produces extremely loud sound waves, and that shit can fuck up your ears with immediate and permanent hearing damage.”
I placed the muffs on her ears and tested her hearing. Once I confirmed they were a good fit, I had her take them off so we could go over a few more things.
“A couple things first. Number one, always treat every gun like it’s loaded. Number two, never point that bitch if you don’t intend to bust that bitch. Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire. You gotta be sure of what your target is and what’s behind it. The last thing you want is for that bullet to ricochet and hit your ass.”
Her hand flew to her stomach. “I definitely don’t want that.”
“Good to know. You ready to try your first gun?”
“Yes.”
I walked over to the gun safe and grabbed a gun with a box of bullets. After loading the gun, I handed it to her.
“I’m gonna start you off with a .22 caliber pistol. This is a great gun for beginners since it has minimal recoil. That kickback can be a muthafucka. First, let’s talk about the proper stance. Your feet should be shoulder-width apart.”
I demonstrated myself, then helped her into the perfect stance. Standing behind her, I slightly grabbed her hips and pushed her feet apart with my own. She had a slight tremble, which was normal for a first timer.
“You gotta relax, love,” I said softly. “It’s just you and me.”
“I know. I just… I’ve never touched a gun before. It feels weird in my hands.”
“You’ll get used to it. The only way to get over a fear is to push through it. You got this. I’m right here. I promise I’m not gonna let you kill yourself or me,” I added with a chuckle.
She elbowed me in the gut. “Very funny, sir.”
“Are we here for a shooting lesson or to throw hands? Just let me know.”
She looked back at me. “Devin.”
I bit my lip. Something about the way my name rolled off her lips did something to me. Nobody but my mama called me Devin. If it wasn’t her, I didn’t answer to that shit. Hearing it come from Romi had me thinking of all the ways I could make her say my name. The way she had me fucked up was blowing me.
Clearing my throat, I focused back in on the task we came here to do.
“Lean slightly forward,” I directed, adjusting her. “That’s it. This gives you the most stable platform. If you aren’t stable when you fire the gun, you could easily miss your target. Now, I want you to grip the pistol with both hands, like this.”
As I cupped her hands around the gun, I caught a whiff of her sweet-smelling scent. She smelled so damn good that I just wanted to sink my teeth into her flesh.
Shaking the thoughts from my head, I refocused my attention yet again.
“Does that feel comfortable?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm.” She peered up at me. “I thought it would feel heavier.”
“Compared to other calibers, this is pretty light. Now, your dominant hand should have high, firm contact on the backstrap. You feel the texture? That ensures you get a better grip and allows for more control and stability when you fire. Essentially, it creates friction between your hand and the gun’s grip area. We don’t want that shit slipping when you pull the trigger. Remember when I mentioned that kickback? Your grip ensures you don’t fuck around and drop the damn gun.”
“That makes sense. I know my first instinct would be to drop it.”
“That’s why your support hand wraps around the front, like this.” I positioned her other hand on the gun. “Good. Make sure your thumbs are both pointing forward.”
We worked on handling the gun for a few minutes until she was comfortable. After practicing a little with an empty gun, I gave her the loaded one, and it was time for her to take the first shot.
“Rest your index finger along the side of the frame until you’re ready to shoot. Do not put it on the trigger.”
“Like this?”
“Perfect. That’s what we call trigger discipline. Again, don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot this shit. When you’re ready, cup your finger around the trigger and squeeze slowly straight back. Don’t jerk or pull sideways. This is called the break point. Now, most of my clients flinch when they anticipate that shit. Just remember to breathe normally.”
Romi took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
“Remember, we’re here to learn and take it step by step. I only loaded this gun with three rounds to start you off. We’re gonna work our way up to you emptying the full clip. For now, just apply everything we’ve gone over —stance, grip, sight picture, and trigger control. Most importantly, remember the safety rules I gave you when we started. Whenever you’re ready, take the first shot.”
She nodded as I placed the earmuffs on her. I watched as she closed her eyes. Her lips moved slightly, and I couldn’t tell if she was praying or what, but when she opened her eyes, she seemed focused. Lining up the target, she pulled the trigger.
As I expected, that kickback made her stumble back.
“Again,” I instructed.
She found her stance, lined up the target, and fired. This time, she stumbled just a little.
“Again.”
She fired the last bullet, holding her stance steady. I motioned for my assistant to send the target forward so she could see her hits. As it got closer, I saw that she got a chest, neck, and face shot.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” I said, clapping my hands as she examined the target. “Look at you being a natural.”
“I don’t know about that. This was sheer dumb luck.”
“Don’t bring that negative shit in here. We celebrate wins around this muthafucka.”
“You know, you are the most unprofessional-sounding professional I have ever met.”
I chuckled. “I’m me. All day, every day. That prim and proper shit doesn’t work in here, baby. I know my shit, so I can speak how I want. Now, if you want me to switch it up for you if your ears are sensitive, I might be inclined to do that.”
She shook her head. “No, no. I don’t mind you keeping it real.”
“Good, ’cause shit wasn’t about to change. It’s nice to think you have an option, though.”
She giggled and playfully shoved me. “Whatever.”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my chest. I didn’t know what made me do that shit. I liked the feeling of being close to her for some reason. She smelled good. She looked good, and pressed against my body, she felt good. Something told me this woman could get me into the type of trouble I wasn’t ready for. She peered up at me, curiosity dancing in her pretty brown eyes.
“D-Devin?” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Um… please tell me that’s a gun.”
I blinked, realizing my dick was pressed against her. I took a step back.
“How about we shoot a few more rounds?” I suggested.
I didn’t give her a chance to respond before I went to the gun safe to grab a second gun, more bullets, and to calm my ass the fuck down.