Heat.

| Chapter 12. |

That exact day, he hung out with Shianne until they knew her dad wouldn't be home. They watched movies at his place, they went out to eat and when it was all said and done, he went to handle some business. Now, he was currently walking down the street, using his GPS until he was in front of a small gray house. It was secluded and in the cut of a dead end, neighbors still quite some distance away. He didn't think anything of it, though, knocking on the door, before a head popped through the second floor window and glanced at him.

"Who the hell are you?" The older man questioned, Aaron staring up at him. 

 "AJ Russo. Cobra matters." 

"Come on in. Through the back." The man didn't waste no time before shutting the window. Aaron shrugged his shoulders, following the path on the side of the house that led to a back door. Aaron walked through, climbing down the stairs. When he reached the basement, an unfamiliar scent of sweat and cigarettes hit his nostrils, causing him to pout in disgust. Despite the smell, the basement was fully furnished and huge, the walls covered in pounds of pink padding.  

"I'm James Davis, call me Tattoo or even Tat," The man spoke, causing Aaron to turn around. The man was a light skin guy, standing at about 6'2. His whole body was covered with tattoos, his face included. He looked to be about 50, but still had a body like The Rock. "What brings you here?" 

"Heard you was the guy to see about teaching me how to hold my own in the Cobras." Aaron shook the man's hand firmly, watching as he simply nodded, before adjusting the gloves on his hands and turning to an punching bag.

"Cobras, huh? Sure has changed," He eyed Aaron up and down. "I'm guessing lil Maurice ain't tell you all that I teach, huh? Got you thinking it stops here." He pointed at the bag.   

"Respectfully, no. What he said was you was gon teach me 'some shit'. That's all," Aaron shrugged his shoulders, coming out his jacket and sweatshirt. "But I'm willing to learn whatever you got." 

-

"Hit it boy, hit it hard!" Tat yelled in Aaron's face as he punched the punching bag. He was doing a 3 hit combo, but 10 times in a row. He ain't never fight before in his life, he was tired as all hell. 

"I can't, man. I can't!" Aaron yelled back, stopping the punching bag and looking at Tattoo. "You got me doing too much." 

"Too much? We just getting started youngin'," James sipped his water. "You gotta get mad. You gotta want this." 

"It's mad hard, though, I'm not an angry person." Aaron said lowly, his breathing uneven.

"What will get you angry?" Tattoo questioned, as Aaron shrugged. He passed him his water, watching as Aaron sipped it. The man shook his head, walking over to the other side of the room. 

"Let's try something else then," He gestured for Aaron to follow him. So, he did. He watched as James unlocked a cabinet, revealing all different kinds of semi automatic weapons, pistols, etc. Aaron played cool, but was dead scared. "Pick one." 

"For what?" 

"Boy, you wanna learn from me or not?" He picked up a revolver. "Good pick. Follow me." 

They walked to the far back of the basement, where there was even more padding than before. There was a stand, which held safety goggles, and all types of bullets. Aaron wiped his sweat, awaiting for instructions. 

"Ever shot before?" 

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Russian Roulette." 

"That's good. Means you can pull a trigger. Hold the gun up and I want you to aim at the poster on the other side there. Take your time." He passed Aaron the goggles and some bullets. Aaron watching carefully as James filled the clip.

"Just go?" 

"Just go." James nodded, sipping his water as he took a seat on the stool. Aaron sighed, closing his eyes as he held the gun up. His hands shook wildly, his breathing starting to become shaky,

"I can't." 

Tat chuckled. "But you play Russian Roulette?" 

"It was one time," Aaron used the towel around his neck and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. "To prove myself." 

"Well, you ain't prove nothing to me yet." 

He scoffed. "Didn't know I had too." 

Tat hopped up from the stool, taking the gun from Aaron's hand and starting to empty it. "Then what you here for, son? Come to waste my time?" 

"I wanted to learn how to defend myself." 

"In this world, that happens with two ways. Pick your poison," He stopped, holding the gun in his hand. "If you don't want this, go. I teach what I teach and ain't been a person who ain't survive yet. You wanna survive or keep looking at me funny?" 

He let the words sink in, thinking of all the ways James was right. He probably meant in the world of the gang, but to Aaron, it was so much more. He was on the run, for reasons he didn't even know, and he was all alone. Without his family, without anything, he was in a world unknown to him and he had to adapt the best way he knew how. He followed where his mind took him, and thankfully, that was the protection of the Cobras. But it was tough. He watched how they all moved about life and once again, he was the oddball out. He always would be. 

But, he could choose to do something about it this time. Something Aaron wouldn't do back in Italy. AJ picked his poison. 

"Give me the gun." 

"You gonna shoot or you gon give me more lip?" 

"Just give it here." He took the gun from Tat, and he focused his eyes on the target on the poster. He sighed. Then he pulled the trigger. The heat radiated off immediately, as the ringing began to fill his ears. He shot five more times without thinking. Silence thickened, before Tat broke it. 

"Look at what you did, son," Aaron lowered the gun, watching as Tat ran to the other side of the room and pointed at the poster. "Bull's eye every time."