Leo

Wednesday morning arrives and I'm wired.

I'm nervous for multiple reasons.

It's the first time I'm going out with someone who's not a family member. And it's a girl.

A really pretty one.

At first I didn't know what we should do. I didn't want us to go to a restaurant. Because it's basic and knowing myself, there'll be a lot of moments of silence. I need something going on around me to pull a conversation forward.

At last, I decide on doing something I have a lot of knowledge about.

Twelve o'clock on the dot, I send her a message telling her I'm here and enter her building complex. At the last step of the stairs leading to her apartment, she exits it, closing the door behind her.

"Hey," she greets me when she sees me.

My eyes quickly scan her. She's wearing dark washed jean shorts and a black top that has a v-neckline. Her hair is in a ponytail high on her head. To complete the look, she has on high ankle converse. Black.

"I'm excited to see what you have planned." She says, her excitement showing as she hurries to my side.

"Well, let's go then." I chuckle and motion for her to walk in front of me.

•••

Our previous two car rides together were filled with music, and this one is no different. Forty minutes of listening to tunes, both of us singing the lyrics.

After parking the car in the empty parking space, I put my hand on the small of her back and walk forward. The sliver of skin between her shirt and pants is warm against my palm.

"Just so you know, Anya and Candy have my location, so if you're here to murder me, think again."

A laugh burst out of me. I can't really blame her for thinking like this. We're in an isolated area outside of town and there are no other cars besides mine since they don't open for another two hours.

"I'm not a Ted Bundy wannabe. Trust me." I assure her. She chuckles, catching my reference to what Candice said to me a few days back at my uncle's event.

After walking down a manmade path between tall grass and bushes, we breach an opening and a small hut comes into view. We enter and JB is standing behind the desk, counting bullets.

"JB." I call out. His head snaps up, and he smiles. He comes from behind the desk to give me a hug.

"Leo, good to see you. How have you been?" He asks.

"Okay." I flash him my cast. "Broke my arm."

"Oh, man. Sucks." He looks down at my company.

"JB, this is Josie. Josephine, this is JB."

They shake hands.

"Does JB stand for Justin Bieber?" She asks, trying to hide her smile.

JB throws his head back, laughing.

"Good one."

JB is a veteran. We were together for a few months before he got badly injured and went back home. We kept in contact since he lives close by. He owns a shooting range. Which is where we're currently at.

"Well, you know how everything works, so I'll leave you to it." He slaps my shoulder. "I'll be out back."

"Thanks, man."

"We're playing with guns?" She asks, taking in the display of different guns and rifles.

"We are."

"That's so cool." She takes out her phone and takes a picture of the display. "Wait, am I allowed to take photos?"

"Yeah, it's alright."

She takes a few more while I grab noise canceling headphones and eye protectors and hand them to her, then I grab the box JB set aside for me with a few choices of guns.

With my head, I gesture for her to follow me out to the shooting range.

It's always so busy here, but when I asked JB if I could come before the doors open, he didn't hesitate to say yes.

Setting the box on the ground, I open it and pull out the first gun.

"A few rules." I begin. "Never point the gun at yourself or someone else. Just point it to the ground." I show her what I mean. "Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Wear the ear and eye protectors on when shooting." I look at her and her cheeks have turned red. Her eyes fixated on my hand holding the gun.

I start to question bringing her here. But I asked her if she'd like to do something that involves shooting. She thought it was paintball, but I didn't want to reveal it so I didn't correct her when she tried to guess via text message.

I clear my throat, scratching my neck. She snaps her gaze to me.

"What type of gun is this?" She asks, clearly not afraid as her eyes are wide and filled with wonder.

"This is a Taurus G3. Nine millimeters." I quickly check the magazine for bullets even though I know JB emptied them. But it's instinct.

When I don't see any bullets, I hand it to her.

"Oh, it's pretty heavy." She weighs the gun in her hands.

Before we actually begin shooting, I explain how things work. I name parts of the pistol and their function. She nods along with me and further asks, not just blindly listening and letting me tell my story, indicating she's actually interested in what I'm saying. I also show her how to empty and fill the magazine, how to aim, and how to roll it around her finger when she asks me to demonstrate.

"Ready?" I hand her the glasses.

She nods and I hold up the gun, pointing. It's getting used to with the cast on, but I manage. I take point one second to align my gyn to the bullseye and I shoot. The sound echoes around the trees and birds fly away. Putting down the gun on the table, I turn to her. She has an astonished face. She claps a few times for me.

"Wow. That was awesome!" She talks loudly because we both have earbuds in. She comes to stand next to me. "My turn."

"The gun has a bad recoil."

"But it stayed in the exact same spot when you shot." Het brows furrow.

"I'm used to it," I want to say my muscles help with the push back but I refrain. "How about we hold it together so you get a feel on what that's like?"

"Yeah, okay." She nods eagerly.

I load a bullet and hand her the gun. Standing next to her, I put my palm flat on her wrists when she points the gun. She tilts her head to me and quirks an eyebrow. I nod. She faces forward again and aims.

My hand on top of hers prevents the gun from punching her in the face when she pulls the trigger. Her eyes widen and her lips part when she finally feels just how powerful guns are. And we haven't even pulled the big guns yet.

Pun intended yet again.

"Wow," she breathes, looking at the gun like it's a rare diamond. I was like her when I first held one, so I can't blame her.

"Awesome, right?"

She takes out one of her earbuds. "Super awesome." She nods, then looks at the box of other guns. "Which one next?"

For the next hour, we go through most of the pistols. She would fire each one a few times, then ditch it before going to the next one.

"Now the rifles." I say as I remove my protective gear.

"Wait, take a picture of me holding the gun." She puts her glasses on the table and gets into a pose; pointing the gun somewhere behind my shoulder after checking that the chamber is empty like I taught her.

Since she didn't hand me her phone, I grab mine and start clicking as she does a few different poses. She takes a few steps to the side. "Can you stand there please, so it doesn't seem like I'm in a range?"

I oblige her request, concealing our location in the photos.

"Now a selfie." I hand her my phone, but she shakes her head. "Together."

I stand next to her and hold the phone up. Never in my life have I taken a selfie. I've only been in them. So I fumble a little, trying to get us both in frame with our height difference.

"Here, give me." She chuckles. It's not much better with her holding the phone. "Maybe crouch or something?"

I bend at the knees, getting our faces aligned next to each other. She holds up the gun between us with one hand and the phone with the other. She takes a few without the gun as well. After a lot of clicks, she quickly scans the picture I took, then hands me my phone back.

With us this close, she's really fucking tiny. I'm surrounded by average tall people, from my family to fellow soldiers. But she barely reaches my chest.

"How tall are you?" The question escapes my lips before I can hold it back.

She smiles. "Guess."

"Five foot..." I trail off, not wanting to insult her or something.

"Two. I'm five two." She giggles as she shakes her head at me.

"That's...average." It's been going great this far, but I had to make things awkward by asking her how tall she is.

"Not really," her smile is sincere, making me feel a little better. "But I like my height so," she shrugs, then tries to hoist up a rifle from the box but struggles. "Wow, that's heavy."

I take it from her with one hand and I see her eyeing my biceps with a frown.

"This," I pet the barrel. "This one's an R700." It's a classic, in my opinion.

Just like what I did with the handguns, I disassemble and reassemble the rifle, explain the mechanism of it, how it works, and how to shoot.

"These things are heavy. Nine pounds." I position it on the table, kicking the legs out.

"You make it look like it weighs nothing."

One corner of my mouth lifts. "Once again, I'm used to carrying heavy calibers." And I once again refrain from mentioning my muscles.

"What position are you in the army? Or rank or level or, you know what I mean." She waves her hand in the air.

"Since the last two tours, a sniper."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"That's really badass. How many kill shots do you have?"

Isn't she direct? That's not something one would ask so nonchalantly.

"A few." I answer vaguely.

"Doesn't it get boring? From the few action films I've watched—and I know they're not the most realistic—but don't you have to like sit in one place for multiple hours till your target arrives?"

I chuckle. Her observation couldn't be farther from the truth.

"It's not boring, no." I answer. "You can't get bored when you have to keep an eye on your surroundings. Making sure you don't get discovered. And before I can take a shot, I have to take things into consideration like wind speed, distance of the target, mirage light, and more. So while my body may not be moving, my mind is. You have to take those variables and calculate the aim and when to shoot and it's a constant calculation in my head as these things change."

There's so much more that goes into taking the shot. I could go into details, but it'd take us all day.

"Wow..." she nods. "That's really intricate work. Excuse me if I made it seem like an easy job."

"You didn't." Most people think it's just waiting around until you can take out a target. "I didn't know half of this stuff before I went to sniper school."

"Sniper school?"

"It's a training program to become a sniper."

"How long is it?"

"Six to seven weeks." I say.

"I thought it was, like, two years or something."

Yeah, those seven weeks were very fucking intense. But I enjoyed going through all the stages of training. I like learning new skills.

"So, which one do you normally use?" She crouches next to the box.

"None of those." I near her and crouch as well, my upper arm touching her shoulder. "The MK-22 are only distributed to US soldiers."

"Ah, bummer. I wanted to see you in your national habitat." She bumps her shoulder with mine. "Ooh." She gestures to a different rifle. "Can I use this one?"

I pull it out and check the magazine like it's second nature to me. Empty.

"This is an 1860 Henry rifle."

"I love it. It's like the ones cowboys use."

I can't help but laugh because this is one of the first models designed and 'cowboys' definitely used them.

"Let's put it to work." I stand up and she follows.

After I explain how the lever works since it's different from the previous ones, I hold it in front of me. "It's heavy." I say for the thousandth time. I'm only warning her because if she gets shocked by its weight and lets it fall, a bullet could fire out and hit one of us if it's loaded.

"I can take it." She extends her hands. I give it to her and ease my tight grip on it. The weight of the rifle makes her expel a breath and her arms drop a bit lower before I grab the thing again, smirking at her.

"What were you saying?"

"Nothing." She grumbles.

"We'll do it together." I suggest.

She stands before me in front of the targets and I go behind her, my feet next to hers. My arm with the gun circles around her and she grabs onto it like I taught her. Our fingers touch and a tingle runs up my arm at the contact.

Bending at the waist so we're aligned, I help her aim at the target. She glances at me, bringing our faces so much closer. Just as quickly, she faces forward again.

"Ready?" I ask, my voice hoarse all of a sudden. My lips are close to her nape and I catch the goosebumps that break out from my breaths hitting her skin.

She doesn't answer me, but instead she tightens her grip on the rifle. After a few seconds, she pulls the trigger. I was ready for the recoil, so it's minimal with both our grips.

We stay standing like this for a beat. Watching the smoke from the muzzle release in the air.

I want to throw the rifle to the ground and wrap my arms around her tiny waist to see how we fit together with our different heights, but before I do that; I step back.

"That's really good aim." I tell her. She's gotten good throughout the day.

Her cheeks redden even more and she bites her lip.

I waggle my brows, knowing what she's thinking.

"This was really fun." She tells me as I put back all the firearms we used. People are arriving since the doors opened ten minutes ago.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

We walk to the hut to bring our stuff back.

"Not to brag," she says. "But I was better than you."

"You had an excellent teacher, that's why." I give her a smile.

"You weren't so bad." She fixes her ponytail, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sure." I chuckle, handing over the box to JB.

"Will I be seeing you here more often?" He asks her.

She glances at me. "Only if my teacher comes with me." She puts emphasis on the word 'teacher' in a mocking tone.

I try not to imagine that sentence under a different circumstance.

JB laughs, while I half heartedly roll my eyes at her.

Josephine is trouble, and I should probably stay away from trouble. But I'm not sure I can.

Nor do I want to.

• ••• •

A/N:

If the FBI comes knocking on my door when they see my search history, I'm showing them it was research for this chapter 😂😂

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