xv. signed lives
FOR THE REMAINDER of the day, Rinn learned how to assemble, clean, load, fire and disassemble guns including Berettas, Colt Ponies, Glocks, Heckler and Koch, Jerichos, Kahrs, Llamas, Smith and Wessons, Rossis, SIG Sauers, Springfields, MP5s, MAC-10s, Intratecs, AKMs, M4s, Mossbergs and Remingtons.
She understood why it took all day long; they taught her about the parts and what's important about holding a gun, even though she had already shot two men with a Smith and Wesson pistol. Despite the fact that no one in the room knew, aside from Jackson, she pretended to know nothing about shooting a gun. She knew in the beginning, when she killed those two men, that her form was all wrong . . . but Jackson never complained.
She was dead on; she had shot them right between the eyes. Perhaps it was beginner's luck or maybe she was just naturally good at shooting, she didn't know because she'd never fired a gun before that time in her life.
Regardless, she refocused her attention to the task at hand.
Taking in a deep breath as she held a Beretta 3032 Tomcat in her hand, she shot three rounds into a couple glass beer bottles lined up against a wall in the garage. The doors were open slightly and everyone else cleared out of the room before she shot, leaving Jackson standing next to her.
All the other men could hear was the shooting of the gun. They were in the office, watching through the bulletproof glass for their own protection from any ricocheting bullets. She turned to Jackson and handing him the gun.
As he got into position and ready to shoot, demonstrating how to properly aim, he spoke to her about a different topic, "How've you been doing since . . . Well, you know."
"Fine, I guess," she said, letting him shoot one bullet into a bottle. It shattered with an earsplitting crack and it made her turn her head away from him, slow enough to catch the worry on his face but also fast enough to see the bullet plow through the glass and into one of the sacks of sand behind the bottles.
"Really though, Rinn," he said, turning towards her and handing her the gun. From where the club members stood behind the bulletproof glass, it looked as if Jackson was giving Rinn a lesson on how to shoot . . . but they were having a different conversation.
"I haven't made time to think about it," she said before nonchalantly shooting at two of the bottles. "I figured it's better that way. If I don't give myself time to dwell on what I did to them, I won't give myself time to feel guilty about it."
"Yeah," Jackson muttered, looking down at his feet while she shot, again. His head slowly raised and he saw all the bottles cleared, making the door open, "Just remember what I said."
"I will," she slowly responded, handing the gun over to Cyanide when they reached her. She pulled the earplugs out of her ear and walked into the office, dropping them into the wastebasket there.
"I know you weren't talking about guns," Denver's voice said from where he leaned against the wall, facing the window. She looked up at him and ran a hand through her hair, surprised that he hadn't come out to the garage. She just shrugged, walking out of the room and heading back over to Jackson.
When she got close enough to him, she gave him a look that only he would've understood, and he nodded at her. She left through the garage and headed towards the clubhouse, quickly making her way inside.
She headed into Jackson's room, managing to pass David without any questions. He was sitting with Rylan, distracting her from the gunshots that were going off in the garage. Rinn figured that she was used to it by now, so she didn't say anything to her.
YOU ARE READING
Miss Mayhem
Action"Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I don't like the face staring back at me," she whispered, looking down at the floor. Her feet were small in front of his and it was then that she realized how close he really was to her. He frowned, asking, "W...
