Midnight Flock

Chapter 2: Bullseye

He had me stand a few feet to his right. His legs were shoulder length apart, his right hand was around the handle, his left hand cradling the gun and his right hand. He moved the slide release, loading a bullet into the chamber, he then flicked off the safety button and he lifted the gun level with his line of sight. Raven looked like a dark god of death and chaos standing there with the gun in his hands. His black tank molded to his large chest and those dark blue jeans hugging his hips and ass tightly. I don't think I've ever ogled another guy so much. Is something wrong with me? Maybe I just haven't had much opportunity with the guys always being around. I didn't want to do anything with Raven, but I could certainly appreciate the male form. He aimed at a target that looked really far away and smoothly pulled the trigger. The gun went off and I jumped a little. The noise was louder than I expected, I noticed Raven pause and glance over at me with a grin on his face. He knew I'd react this way! That sneaky gun-toting Russian. He refocused on the target before him and pulled the trigger several more times in a row. He only stopped after he fired the gun four or five times. He lowered the gun, turned the safety back on, took the magazine out, emptied the chamber and set the gun down on the table.

"You did that on purpose!" I accused him as soon as we both removed the big headphones. I was smiling at the accusation because it reminded me of something Luke might do and I couldn't stay mad at him either.

"I can't prepare you for the sound. It's easier to gauge your reaction to the surprise. You hardly reacted at all." He shrugged it off. Really? Because I felt like I jumped a mile. But, I wasn't going to argue that with him. "Now, let's get the target and you can see where I want you to try aiming the gun and firing." I waited by the table for him as he walked away. I could smell Owen's Irish spring scent as it surrounded me.

"How are you liking it so far?" What he really wanted to know was if I was okay with Raven being so close and handsy. Not handsy in a bad way, he was just a very tactile person it seemed. It didn't actually bother me at all. After the Ashley Waters job I had issues with anyone but the boys touching me or being close to me. I went through months of therapy to help me overcome everything my step monster did to me and the abuse I endured at the school. I had issues sometimes still, handling really crowded places. I couldn't deal with black friday shopping with Luke and Gabe anymore. The crowds got to me and I would have a panic attack. Luckily, I could buy most things online these days, or I could give a list to Luke and he would always be sure to get everything on my list for me. I realized Owen was still waiting for my response. His lips were turned down slightly, his eyes were worried, his shoulders tight. They didn't like it when I slipped away with my thoughts. The guys told me once that they thought I was always thinking about bad things when I did it, and it was true at the time. Most of the thoughts were dark. But now, they were of the guys and those were never bad thoughts. Nevertheless, it worried them when I'd slip away like that.

"Sorry. It's okay. I like Raven. He's a good guy. I'm actually having fun." Owen nodded, something still on his mind. "Just spit it out already." I prompted.

"Sang, it's just I don't want you to get disappointed if you don't actually hit the target. Not that I think you won't, but the point of this course is gun safety, not marksmanship. I just don't want you to feel any pressure to live up to some expectation you think North and I have. We just want you to have fun, learn something and accomplish getting your safety certificate. Many people have to practice for hours and hours to be a decent shot." Did Owen think I would be a bad shot? Was he trying to let me down easy so I didn't give up? Did the others have expectations of my abilities, that I would be disappointing them if I didn't shoot well? I was under the impression he thought I might excel at this. It's why I was so excited to give it a try.

"Are the guys good shots? Is that why you are saying something?" I was nervous now, with Owen and North watching me, judging my skill. They could go back to the rest of the team and tell them I was awful at this and that would be embarrassing. I could feel my palms getting sweaty again, my heart thumping a little faster than it was moments ago.