Page 61 of Breaking You Open

And before that…When Eric had a knife to his throat…I haven’t felt that scared in a long time. Maybe ever.

I managed to keep my cool though. If my father taught me anything of use, it’s to never show fear in front of dangerous men. As a dangerous man in my own right, I know what he meant; fear is titillating. When your enemy shows fear, like Eric eventually did, your veins surge with adrenaline and power. There’s a certain kind of high that comes with knowing you can do anything to the other person, hurt them in any way…Maybe Sparrow liked it too, and I can relate to that, but he lacked control, which I relate to even more.

I grimace. Again, just like with the issue of consent, I’m the last person on earth who should teach Sparrow about these things. But what choice do I have? He has no one else, and even if he did, I wouldn’t let them come anywhere near him. Even Ravi.

“You could take him to the gym,” Ravi suggests. “Wouldn’t hurt to put some muscle on that skinny frame.”

He’s right, but at the same time, it wouldn’t help much against an attacker. Speed and agility are Sparrow’s best bet in a fight. Besides, I enjoy his body the way it is, just like he enjoys mine. I can’t take him to the gym I frequent anyway; it’s full of big, tattooed men like me, and I don’t want to spend all my time barking at them like a guard dog as soon as they come within three feet of my boy.

“How about weapons, then?” Ravi asks. “You could teach him how to shoot a gun.”

Guns…Yeah, that could be useful. It’s not like Sparrow can go prancing around town with one, but in case another situation arises with an attacker in our home, he’d do well knowing how to handle a weapon with range. Ideally, I don’t want to ever let him out of my sight again, but I know that’s not possible. This might be the next best thing.

Sighing, I glance toward the bedroom door, where Sparrow is still sleeping soundly, unaware of what dangers might come his way.

I have to do this, and I will. I’ll teach him everything I know. Everything. Except in terms of self-hatred, of course, because in that particular subject, we are both all too skilled.

Chapter 19

Sparrow

With every shot ofLouis or Ravi firing their guns, my eyes blink instinctively, and my whole body tenses up. I try not to flinch as much as I want to, but I can’t help it; I’m so used to reacting to danger with fear that I can’t…I can’t…

“You all right?” Ravi asks next to me. He’s got a revolver in his hand, and together with his bandanna and full jeans outfit, he looks like some wild Western character, only with darker skin and hair.

“Mm-hmm” is all I get out—a squeak of a sound—and I curse myself for how pathetic I seem. How can Louis and Ravi be so relaxed about this? Sure, we’re not in any immediate danger, but that sound…Even with the earmuffs, it’s overwhelming.

“Don’t worry.” Ravi hands me a bottle of water, and I gulp down a couple of mouthfuls, not having realized how thirsty I was. “This is mostly for fun anyway.”

Doesn’t seem like Louis feels the same. His usual grim expression looks even more severe with the sunlight casting shadows under his eyes.

“It’s time,” he says, waving a hand my way.

I go to him warily. Even though I know he won’t judge me if I fail, I can’t help but worry I’ll let him down.

Watching Ravi and Louis fire off their weapons is scary enough. Actually holding one, maybe imagining blowing someone’s head off when I pull the trigger…The very thought makes me shiver down to my bones.

But that’s just one part of me. The other part, the part that straddled Eric Fletcher and sliced him to shreds…Yeah, that part is drawn to holding death in my hands.

Louis motions for me to stand in front of him, and he envelops his strong body around mine, his sweat seeping into the back of my shirt.

“It’s okay,” he whispers in my ear. “You hold it like this, like I showed you. Remember?” He slots the gun between my hands and squeezes my fingers around it. “Unless you’re gonna fire, hold your finger off the trigger, okay?”

He lets go, and I balance the gun precariously in my hands.

“Now hold it out and aim.”

I lift my arms out. They start shaking right away from the weight of the weapon.

“See that little pin out front?” Louis says. “That’s where you want your target. Try it.”

I squint into the tiny pinpoint hole at the top of the gun.

“You see it?” Louis asks.

“Y-Yeah.”

He adjusts my earmuffs. “Now put your hand on the trigger and aim.”

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