Memory

Chapter Eleven- Trystan

The force of the shot causes me to flinch and take a step back, and I raise the safety goggles to my forehead to get a better view of where I hit the target.

In the shoulder.

Damn! After ten tries, I still can't get a bullseye!

"Look, Trystan," Jake says, coming up to stand beside me again, for the tenth time. He has been my 'mentor', or should I say, flirty/annoying shooting coach for the past 30 minutes? "You've got to get the posture right."

I glare at the black, smooth shotgun in my right hand, my pointer finger hovering over the trigger.

If Jake bothers me again about position and such, can I shoot him in the leg?

Jake slips behind me and places his hands on my hips. "You need your hips squared with your shoulders," he says, though he has to raise his voice over the sound of shots ringing through the shooting area. "Keep your back straight." He puts his hand flat on the middle of my back, forcing me to raise my chin and straighten my shoulders. The touch sends shivers through my spine, and I resist the urge to lean back into his body.

Instead, I shake my head, waving the gun in my hand at the same time. "Maybe I'm not cut out for this," I say, gritting my teeth. "I mean, I've hit the target over 20 times in the shoulder and stomach. I can't even meet the requirement of getting at least one bullseye!"

Jake shakes his head. "You don't get it, Trystan. Look around you." He gestures me to do so, so I turn my head to either side. I start to notice that most of the shooters' expressions are filled with either annoyance or contempt. The others are focused entirely on their target, their position alert.

I look back at Jake, who takes a step away from me. "What am I supposed to see?" I ask him, well aware of the answer I am going to get.

He sighs. "That the others are feeling the same as you are. You need to get in the mood, Trystan. Feel the gun. Feel its power, be one with the gun. You've-"

"Uh, how is that supposed to help me, Jake?" I frown, setting the shotgun in my hand on the booth in front of me. "The gun is in my hand, I can feel it. But it is a weapon. How can I possibly become one with the thing?"

Shaking his head, he reaches over to the booth and takes the gun, handing it over to me. "Nevermind. Just take this and I'll run through the tutorial once more."

Taking the gun from him, and giving him a mean glare at the same time, Jake steps up to stand behind me again. But this time, he seems to stand even closer, his chest touching the back of my head.

He's much taller than Dimitri.

Girl, forget about Dimitri for now. You've got to get a grip on this shooting stuff, pronto!

He stretches my arms straight in front of me as I position my hands around the gun the correct way. Once I got a good grip, I let my flirty, annoying mentor take the wheel...

With my hand gripping the other side of it.

"First, keep your arms straight ahead of you," Jake says gently. He overlaps our arms and places his hands over mine. He straightens my arms, pressing closer to me with the effort.

I am very close to pushing him away from me, but he feels so much like Dimitri that I let him invade my personal space.

"Next, keep your back straight, your feet aligned with your shoulders." He puts his hand flat on my back, and again the shivers return. But at least they are minimal this time.

Now he takes both his hands and puts them on either side of my head, his thumbs brushing against my earlobes. "Keep your eyes on the target, look at the spot you want to hit. You need your goggles on at all times; don't want a stray bullet hitting your beautiful eyes, now do we?" He takes the tips of my goggles and lowers them to rest over my eyes.