Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
COLE
"Come on, sleepyhead. Get up," I say quietly and gently shake Jules’s shoulder.
She grumbles something incomprehensible, but then gets up. Sophie doesn’t move, so I follow Jules out of the room and shut the door behind me, knowing that the daylight shining through the crack under the door will help Sophie find her way when she wakes.
Jules yawns, rubs her eyes and then looks me up and down. "Well… at least you’re still in one piece."
"How nice of you. Thanks." I go to the kitchen and start making her a coffee. After I placed the cup on the drip rack and pressed the button, Jules grabs my arm and forces me to face her so she can examine me properly.
"How are you going to explain this to her?" she asks sternly, pointing at the laceration throbbing on my left eyebrow.
I pull free from her grip and turn away.
"And your hands look like you’ve put them in a meat grinder. Seems like you were a little out of your mind, huh?" Her tone is as accusatory as her gaze when she takes the coffee I hand her.
"You don’t look like the picture of health either," I counter. "Were you two up late?"
Nodding, she sips her coffee and closes her eyes with relish.
"What did you do?"
"We watched American Pie."
I almost drop the cup that I’d just reached for. "You what?"
"Yeah. I thought I’d kill several birds with one stone." She shrugs as if it’s perfectly normal to show a completely unworldly girl this movie of all things. "Now she knows the problems teenagers have to deal with, what a party is, that sex—"
"You’re impossible, you know?" I just can’t believe she showed Sophie that terribly clichéd movie. Sophie, who hasn’t even been in this world for forty-eight hours and who I’m pretty sure has no fucking idea about the main component of that flick.
"And still, you love me," Jules sings while walking past me and toward the bathroom.
"What the hell were you thinking? She’s probably traumatized for the rest of her life now."
In response, she gives me the middle finger, then closes the door behind her.
Great. Really fucking great.
I will never leave Sophie alone with her again.
Yes, I love Jules. I truly do. But she’s totally going to spoil Sophie. And that’s going to suck.
"I’ll come back tonight. We could go out for pizza or something," Jules suggests as she comes out of the bathroom some minutes later. By now, she is wide awake and has obviously planned the next attack on Sophie.
I take a deep drag from the cigarette I just lit before answering her. "Don’t you think you’re asking a little too much of her?"
Jules steps in front of me and places her fists on her hips. "What’s that supposed to mean, huh? Are you implying that I’m a bad influence?"
"When I think about it… yeah. That pretty much sums it up."
Grinning, I return her gaze until she tries to punch me. I dodge easily because I’ve already expected that, which only makes her angrier.
"Stop acting like an asshole. She had a great night. I’ve answered many of her questions, and none of it seemed too much for her.
" She turns away and walks to the dining table to get her bag before heading for the stairs. "Just ask her. I’m pretty sure she didn’t find it nearly as bad as you think. "
When Sophie gets up four hours later, I’ve already worked out, taken care of the mess Jules and I ignored because of Sophie’s disappearance, and am now cleaning my Desert Eagle.
Somewhat hesitantly, she steps out of her room and stops at a proper distance. "Good morning."
"It’s already noon."
When I look up at her, she gasps in shock. "What happened to your face?"
"Nothing," I reply curtly, turning my gaze back to the disassembled weapon.
"You’re lying."
I grimace. "And you ask too many questions."
"So you’re not going to tell me?"
"No. Because it’s none of your damn business."
"But you’re hurt."
"So what? I’m fine, so… just stop asking what happened, okay?"
She’s quiet for a few seconds, but the silence doesn’t last long. "Why do you have a gun?"
Goddammit.
"You’re doing it again," I say resentfully before answering anyway. "For protection."
"Have you ever used it?"
"Not to shoot anyone, if that’s what you mean."
Again, a few seconds pass before she continues. "Will you show me how to shoot it?"
Slowly, I lift my head to look at her. "You’re kidding me, right?"
Frowning, she returns my gaze.
"Are you joking?" I clarify.
"Why would I be joking?"
I groan in annoyance and throw the cloth I used to clean the barrel onto the table. "Why do you want to learn to shoot?"
"For protection," she explains as if it were perfectly logical.
Blankly, I look at her and wait for her to call out April Fools!, but she doesn’t.
"I am not going to show you how to shoot. That’s… fuck. That would be insane."
"But why? You have a gun for protection. Why can’t I have one too?"
I’m having a really hard time staying calm with her, but then I remember she doesn’t know any better.
Just as I’m about to tell her again that this is not going to happen, she looks at me straight-faced and with her chin up, which makes me change my mind. "You know what? Fuck it. I’ll show you."
"Really?"
"Yes. But don’t think I’m going to let you have one of my weapons," I add before she can jump to the wrong conclusion. "I’m just showing you how to use it. Nothing more."
"You have several of these?"
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a moment before I stand. "Coffee?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Black?" I turn halfway toward her.
She inspects the Desert Eagle but then lifts her head. "Yes, please."
The smile she then puts on does weird things to me, which is why I turn away and wonder again what I’m doing here.
I must have lost my mind. There’s no other explanation for what I’m about to do an hour later.
The sun’s at its zenith. Birds are chirping, butterflies are flying around, and the scent of grass, flowers, and late summer is in the air as Sophie accepts the gun I hand her with wide eyes.
"It’s heavy," she says in surprise when I take my fingers off the metal. Her hands sink slightly at the weight because she’s not prepared for it.
"Four pounds. Unloaded." I watch as she examines the Desert Eagle, whose components and functioning I’ve just explained to her over the past few minutes.
The sight is grotesque. Her small hands look completely out of place on the almost eleven-inch-long Magnum.
I also doubt that she could hold it steady with one hand.
And the magazine isn’t even loaded yet. Which will stay that way as long as she has the gun because I’m not going to let Sophie shoot the Desert Eagle.
It’s just too brute for her. The recoil could literally knock her off her feet.
That’s why I brought along my old Glock 17, which looks like a toy compared to the Magnum, but is just fine for Sophie.
She wraps both hands around the grip and holds the gun tentatively in front of her body while I walk over to a log lying on the ground with a few empty drink cans. After placing the cans on the log, I return to her and hold out my hand.
Sophie hands me the gun and watches carefully as I insert the magazine. Then I load it, turn off the safety, grip it with both hands, and aim at one of the cans.
"Ready?" I ask, looking briefly at Sophie.
Her eyes are literally glued to the barrel shining in the sun as she nods.
"Cover your ears."
As soon as she obeys, I look ahead again and take a deep breath. I concentrate only on my target and block out everything else. My heartbeat slows down, my gaze focuses, and the sounds around us become quieter. Then I pull the trigger.
The shot rings out loud, the muzzle flash is blinding, and the recoil is as violent as always.
I’m familiar with all of this, so I hardly notice it and only see that I’ve hit.
The can that was on the log a moment ago is gone, and I’m relieved that my training seems sufficient.
I’ve never had to use the gun, and I’m not exactly eager to do so, but the certainty that I could hit my target in an emergency is incredibly reassuring.
I lower my arms and re-secure the gun before looking at Sophie.
Her mouth is slightly open, her eyes wide.
She looks at me with a mix of astonishment and admiration that should probably frighten me.
There is nothing admirable about firing a gun.
It’s neither brave nor desirable, and sometimes the Desert Eagle’s four pounds feel like a hundredweight because I’m all too aware of the responsibility that comes with carrying it.
"You still want to try?" I ask when she removes her hands from her ears, really hoping she’ll say no.
But Sophie nods. Of course she does, goddammit.
When she reaches for the Magnum, I shake my head. "No fucking way. You’re not shooting with that beast," I clarify, putting the gun aside and reaching for the much smaller Glock I’ve placed in the truck bed.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t argue. Maybe she’s realized that my favorite gun is simply too big for her. Instead, she listens carefully as I show her everything.
"Oh!" She laughs briefly as I hand her the Glock. "It’s really much lighter."
Nodding, I take a step back.
"Doesn’t it need to be unlocked?" she asks, giving me a puzzled look.
I shake my head again. "Well listened, but no. The Glock has three automatic safeties and therefore doesn’t need to be manually unlocked like the Magnum."
She nods in understanding before she turns to the log with the cans and lifts her arms to aim at one of them.
Her now brown hair is tied back in a ponytail, from which a few strands have already come loose. Today, she’s opted for a pair of jeans and a loose knitted sweater, but rolled up the sleeves because it’s warmer than expected.
Seeing her like this—especially with a gun in her hands—almost makes me forget what her life must have been like so far.
She raises her hands a little more, pushes the tip of her tongue between her lips like Jules, and frowns as she squeezes one eye shut for better aim.
"Wait." I stop her before she shoots a bird, since she’s aiming wrong and can’t possibly hit a can that way. I then stand behind her and put my hands on hers to direct her. Instantly, the scent of eucalyptus envelops me, and I realize that she must have deliberately chosen a soap with that scent.
When my body touches her back, she takes an audible breath but doesn’t move an inch.
"Stand a little more wide-legged."
I wait until she has followed my instruction before I continue. As I do so, I feel her every movement against my chest all too clearly, which confuses me for a tiny moment, but I quickly regain my composure.
"Prepare for the recoil."
Sophie nods.
"Breathe in and out deeply. And then focus on your target. Forget that I’m standing behind you. Forget that you’re holding a gun for the first time. Just think about putting the bullet through that can." I say the words softly, and then automatically take a deep breath as well.
"Now pull the trigger," I whisper.
She does.
The recoil presses her against me, causing her to let out a soft scream. Then the tension disappears from her arms, and I take the gun from her while she still looks ahead as if spellbound.
"I hit it," she says eventually, almost stunned.
"Yep."
"I actually hit it!"
A smirk settles on my lips as Sophie whirls around to me with bright, sparkling eyes. "Can I do it again?"
"Really?" I lift a brow, and she nods with a wide smile.
"Okay." Shrugging, I check how much ammo is left in the magazine. Then I hand her the Glock and show her again how to stand and support the gun with her left hand. "You have three shots left."
When I step back, she stands much better than the first time and follows my instructions exactly. Then she takes aim and holds her breath before firing.
The shot misses, but before I can say something, she’s already aiming again. The second bullet just grazes the edge of the can, but it still falls over. The third and final shot is perfect, and I can’t deny that I’m a little proud of her.
"Point the barrel down," I remind her when she still doesn’t lower her arms.
Sophie obeys, and I step toward her to take the Glock.
"That was… really cool," she says breathlessly before looking at me.
"Did you just say cool?"
Her cheeks redden slightly as she answers. "Jules said that a couple of times," she explains. "Didn’t I use it right?"
I must look like a deer in headlights because I just stare at her. It takes a moment for me to catch myself. "You did."
"Can I shoot with the big one now?" she asks abruptly.
A mirthless laugh escapes me before I shake my head. "Not in this lifetime, little darling."