Page 91 of Buy Back My Love

Anika, of course, was having the time of her life. She strutted toward the counter holding our signed waivers like she had organized a middle school field trip.

“Come on, y’all. We about to get right.”

“Speak for yourself,” I muttered.

Nina laughed behind me while Wren looked around like she was just as unsure about being there as I was.

The instructor was a big, no-nonsense dude with a serious face. He handed us ear protection and safety glasses, then looked directly at me.

“First time?”

“Yeah.” I shoved the heavy muffs over my ears.

“Rule number one,” he said loud enough for me to hear him. “Finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot.”

I nodded way too fast and pressed the earmuffs tighter against my head like that was gon’ make them loud shots disappear.

When it was finally my turn, I stepped up to the lane and stared at the paper target hanging in front of me. It had a black outline of a man with circles all around his chest, and my arms went stiff as soon as I held the gun out.

The instructor stepped closer and tapped my shoulder. “Relax your shoulders, ma’am. Breathe.”

I let out a shaky breath, loosened up a little, and lined up the sights before squeezing the trigger.

Pop!

I flinched so hard I damn near threw my back out. The gun kicked in my hand and down the line Anika was already laughing.

“Damn, Lee! Did you hit the target at all?”

“Shut up.” I tried not to smile, but my mouth had other plans.

Anika stepped up next and ain’t hesitate at all. The way she held that gun told me real quick this was not her first time.

I looked over at her. “Bitch, when the hell you learn how to shoot?”

She grinned. “You don’t know everything about me.”

Apparently not.

Nina took it serious too, just like she did everything else. Feet planted, face calm, taking her time with every shot. Wren hung back near the bench with her arms crossed, laughing at the rest of us.

“Y’all go ahead. I’ll try later.”

Translation: not today and probably not ever.

The instructor came back over to me. “All right, try it again. Loosen up. Stop fighting the gun.”

“I’m not fighting it.”

He gave me a look.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

The second time went better. I still flinched, but I ain’t nearly jump out my skin, and when I lowered the gun, I looked down the lane and saw that I had actually hit the target.

Once my turn was over, I still ain’t like all that noise, but I wasn’t scared of the gun anymore.

When we finally walked out, my ears still felt like they were ringing even with them big earmuffs they gave us.