Chapter 23 #2
“Not like that.” Dominic reached out and adjusted his grip, fingers closing over Knox’s hand to reposition it. The contact was brief, but it was enough.
Knox went still, and Dominic was already too aware of him. “Firm,” he said quietly. “Not tense.” He shifted Knox’s hands, guiding the position of his fingers along the frame.
Knox’s breathing changed. Just slightly.
Of course it did.
Dominic stepped in behind him. “Feet apart.”
Knox adjusted his stance. “Like this?”
“Wider.”
He reached forward and nudged Knox’s shoulders into place. Their bodies were suddenly much closer than they had been a moment ago. He leaned past him, adjusting the angle of the gun toward the target. “Focus on the front sight. Nothing else.”
Knox went still, staring downrange. Dominic watched the slight shift in his breathing, the way his grip tightened and loosened like he was trying to settle himself. “You’re not focusing on the sight,” Dominic said.
Knox cleared his throat. “I am.”
“You’re not.”
A pause. Then, still facing the target: “You’re standing very close.”
Dominic didn’t move. “Yes.”
He remained exactly where he was, close enough that if Knox leaned back even slightly he’d feel him there. He watched Knox pull in a slow breath and force his attention back downrange. “Now the trigger,” Dominic murmured.
The shot cracked through the room. Recoil kicked through Knox’s arms, and Dominic’s hand came up instinctively, steadying his wrist before the muzzle could snap too far upward.
They both looked downrange. A small hole had appeared in the paper, low and to the left of center.
Knox stared at it. “That was loud, even with these on.”
Dominic’s mouth twitched. “You get used to it.”
“So how bad was that?”
“For a first shot?” He adjusted Knox’s grip again, shifting the pressure of his fingers. “Not bad. You pushed the gun down right before it fired. Most people do. You anticipate the recoil, so your body tries to compensate before it happens.”
Knox considered that. “So how do I stop?”
“Stop thinking about the noise,” he said, leaning closer behind him. “Or the recoil. Only focus on the sight.”
Knox exhaled slowly through his nose but didn’t raise the gun. “Can I ask you something?”
“If it’s relevant.”
Knox turned his head, a faint smile touching his mouth. “I guess it is.”
Dominic gave a slight nod, permission enough for Knox to continue.
“How old were you?”
“When?”
“The first time you killed someone.”
He didn’t answer right away. The question settled somewhere he usually didn’t let people reach, and he found himself turning it over before he let it out. “Thirty.”
Knox glanced back at him, surprise flickering across his face. “I thought it’d be younger.”
“I spent a long time doing other things first.”
“The legal businesses?”
“Among them.” He rested a hand lightly over Knox’s wrist. “Now. Front sight.”
Knox raised the gun, but he wasn’t finished. “Did you know him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Dominic’s mouth twitched. “He died.”
Knox snorted. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” He said nothing further, waiting to see if Knox would let it go.
He didn’t.
The second shot cracked through the room. The gun barely jumped this time, and the hole landed much closer to the center than the first. Better than Dominic had expected if he was honest. “Nicely done,” he said, letting the approval warm his words.
Knox studied the target for a second, then his eyes slid back to Dominic. “So what happened?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “He’d become a liability. He was about to destroy years of hard work.”
“Did killing him bother you?” Knox asked. His voice had gone quieter, careful in a way it hadn’t been a moment ago.
Dominic considered the question longer than he meant to. “I thought it would. What bothered me…” He exhaled, low and even. “Was how little it bothered me.”
Knox watched him closely. “Do you remember his name?”
“Of course. I remember all of their names.”
Knox’s brows drew together. “That doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“It’s not because of what you think.” Dominic’s voice stayed level. “I don’t remember them because they haunt me. I remember them because every decision has a cost. If I’m willing to take a life, I owe it to them to remember whose life I took.”
Something shifted in Knox’s expression, like he hadn’t expected that answer.
“But don’t get me wrong. I don’t lose sleep over any of it, Wolfe. I never have.” He held Knox’s gaze a beat too long, then looked away first. “Now focus.”
He didn’t know why he’d told him that much. He never talked about it, not even with people he’d known for years and who’d earned his trust. And yet Knox asked a few questions and he’d handed over information he usually kept buried.
He settled a palm over Knox’s hip and nudged him back until their bodies aligned, grateful for something else to focus on besides the unfamiliar sensation of having said too much.
Heat bled through the thin cotton of Knox’s shirt and sank straight into Dominic’s chest. He didn’t need to touch him this much. He’d taught other men countless times, and he’d never been this hands-on. But with Knox, he found himself reaching out, seeking contact, almost without thought.