Page 68 of Web of Lies
I raise the gun, following his instructions. My arms quiver slightly, but I push through it and hold the gun steady.
"The safety's still on, so just get a feel for aiming." I take another deep breath, stare down the barrel, and focus on the target across from me. "Wonderful," Kyle says, his breath hot against my neck. "You're getting the hang of it fast."
"I'm not a total stranger to it," I say, shooting him a glare over my shoulder. "But it still feels weird."
"That's why we practice." He takes a step back and looks me up and down. "Do you want to try again, or should we go straight to shooting?"
"I want to do it again without your help. Then shoot." I lower the firearm, take a deep breath, and go through Kyle's instructions step by step until I'm back in the final position.
"Looks good. Just," Kyle says, taking a step closer and pressing his chest into my back again. My breath hitches, and I naturally lean into him as he curls his fingers around my arms and bends them. "Now it's perfect," he whispers in my ear, his hot breath touching my skin and making my heart stutter. "Whenever you're ready." His hands drop from my arms to my hips, and then he takes a step back. "Just take your time."
I flip the safety off, just as he showed me, and rest my finger on the trigger guard. The paper target stares back at me. My chest rises and falls rhythmically as I inhale, shift my finger to the trigger, and shoot.
The explosion echoes through the quiet air and dances throughout the forest as the kickback hits me like asledgehammer, forcing my shoulders back. I stumble half a step and slam into Kyle's solid chest. Without hesitation, his arms wrap around my waist, catching me before I can tumble to the ground.
"Are you all right?" he asks.
"I think so," I say, tilting my head up to look at him as the blast still rings in my ears.
"Not bad at all," he says with a smile, sounding genuinely impressed.
"Really?" A small, doubtful laugh slips from my lips. My gaze shifts from him to the paper target. Although I missed the target, I hit the tree trunk, which has a small hole piercing the bark. A broad smile stretches across my face as a wave of pride runs through me. I wasn't actually very far off. Would the shot have killed my target? No, absolutely not, but at least I could have injured him.
"Want to try again?"
"Yeah, I do." My fingers tighten around the pistol as I glance back at him and nod.
With every following shot, my stance and aim improve. When necessary, Kyle offers advice, but he also gives me the space I need to figure things out on my own. The more I shoot, the better I learn to withstand the kickback. I adjust my posture until I find a stance that feels the most natural to me. I no longer flinch with each shot, and I hit the silhouette more consistently.
After a few more rounds, the gun clicks empty. I lower the pistol and stare at it, taken aback by the fact that I have already fired the entire magazine. How is that possible? Surely, I haven't fired more than a few bullets.
My heart is still pounding from the deafening explosions and the gun's violent recoil in my hands. A strange rush of competing emotions drowns out my initial fear. It was amazing, like pure adrenaline pumping through my veins. Now, however, as thehigh fades and the adrenaline melts from my muscles, my hands won’t stop shaking.
At the sound of footsteps rustling through the grass, I turn to face Kyle, who walks up to me and takes the gun from my hands. His fingers brush against mine, and I feel a surge of electricity shoot through my limbs.
"Easy there," he says, putting the pistol down. Then, he shifts his gaze toward the paper target. "You did great on the first day." My gaze follows his and scans the paper, which is ripped with a series of holes.
"Thanks," I say, turning back to face him. A small burst of pride fills my chest, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. "Once I got the hang of it, it ended up feeling great."
"I could tell. You got a little carried away." His lips twitch into a smile.
"Is that bad?"
"No." He shakes his head firmly. "The opposite. If you start to feel comfortable handling a gun, it’ll be easier to focus on the next step."
"You mean hunting?"
"Yes."
"When will you take me?"
"I haven't decided yet," he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the patio table. "But, given how today went, I'd say in a few days."
Pride and dread clash in my gut. Pulling the trigger on something as simple as paper is one thing, but aiming at a living being? The thought alone makes my stomach churn.
"But enough of that for today," he says, his tone softening. "It's time to take a break and continue at another time."
"Why?"
