Page 135 of Broken Dreams

Quinn’s open expressions are so much fun. Scowls, grins, laughter, all things she used to hide from the world for her safety. There also wasn’t much joy to be found at Slick Dreams, so I’m soaking up every moment.

She’s currently wearing protective glasses, noise cancelling headphones, and getting ready to take down some targets. The determination in her gaze as she raises the Glock G43X is fierce. I saw the way she glared earlier at the dolls hanging from the trees to taunt her.

They’re not going to stand a chance.

Quinn starts with a few of the cans, easily sighting and shooting them before moving on to the glass bottles, and then going down on the creepy little dolls. She is a really good shot, but I think she’s a perfectionist.

She worries that in a moment of chaos in a real world situation that she’ll fuck up. It’s a legitimate concern.

Slowly breathing out, she takes her finger off the trigger and smiles. Holding it to the side, she pulls off the headgear and glances at Callum. He checks the dolls, shaking his head as he proclaims them all deceased.

Quinn squeals, “Ha!” while we hide our amusement.

She really hates these dolls. Unfortunately, she left some for me.

“You did good, Quinn. Now, tell me why you don’t want to carry in public?” he asks.

Glancing apologetically at me, I shake my head to tell her it’s fine for her to speak to him through the bond. I’m not jealous of it, I just wish she and I could communicate like that. I don’t know if it’s even possible. Usually I’d ask to test it, but I think I’d be even more sad if we tried and it didn’t work.

I think I need to talk to someone about it before we try.

Duncan frowns as he listens to what she has to say through the bond, grunting, “Anxiety about not being able to fire is normal, Quinn. That’s what muscle memory is for. You do it over and over until you just do it. There’s a threat, you shoot the fuck out of it.”

“Exactly,” Callum agrees. “Alright, Linus, you’re up.”

I’m included in the target practice because if there’s ever a chance that I may have to handle a gun, I'll know how to. I’m still not sure if I’ll be attending the party or not. Callum and Duncan think it’s a risk for the two of us to be together.

To add insult to injury, Cerenity has Quinn and I learning new dance routines, and one of them is fly pole. The ability to constantly be able to learn and grow is a huge incentive to continue working at the club.

Do I have any idea how much I’m making there or what the pay is? Absolutely not. I’m sure Cerenity went over it at some point, but I don’t have a clue when payday is either.

After ten years of being a slave to someone else’s will, it’s a really surreal concept to actually be paid for my work.

I’m still mulling that over as I gear up, and Callum hands me a different firearm to shoot.

“Show me how you set up the gun, and then find your targets,” he says.

Nodding, I push the magazine into the 9mm gun, smoothly lifting it with my trigger finger ready to fire. Muscle memory is the only reason I’m not overly in my head as I sight down the barrel.

The recoil is a normal part of this, my arms and body aware of how it feels. Even the noise isn’t as jarring as it once was, and I hit my targets without emotion, almost as if it were an out of body experience. I hate taking this position every time, but once I’m here I’m able to just do it.

Blinking, I move my trigger finger, my hands already ejecting the magazine and the round in the chamber before showing the pieces to Callum.

“Damn,” he mutters. “I think we’re good for today.”

“I know we keep hammering this in, but if you have the muscle memory, which you do, you’ll be fine,” Duncan says.“The only other thing I can think of is simulating some moving targets.”

Callum takes the gun from me as I pull off the headgear and glasses so I can hear them better.

“Moving?” I ask, interested.

Quinn makes a face at me before glancing at a doll, and the three of us chuckle.

“I’m interested, though the dolls are probably a hard limit for her,” I say.

Duncan rolls his lips inward, struggling to hold in his amusement.

“I’ll leave the dolls out next time,” he says, even as his shoulders shake as he cleans up with Callum.

---