: Chapter 5

“FOUR DAYS?” Gunnar calls out from the window as he pulls up in his bright yellow Porsche. I know nothing about cars, but I know enough to know that it’s fast and expensive. Plus, all the guys on campus are walking around eyeballing it and taking pictures of it with their phones, making me feel insanely self-conscious as I go over to it.

“Yeah? So what?” I shrug.

“You make me wait before getting back to me?” he asks, shoving open the passenger side door. “You know how many models would to hang out with me?”

“So take one of them to the gun range. I’m sure their days of strutting up and down catwalks would lead to incredible conversation for you.”

I slide into my seat and close the door and look over at Gunnar, who is smirking back at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing.” He shrugs. “Just like I said–for a girl with your looks, you certainly have an evolved sense of humor.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” I reply.

“Take it however you want it,” Gunnar chuckles as he gives the Porsche gas and pulls out of the lot. “Just as long as I’m the one giving it to you later.”

He grins at me, one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the shifter-thingy, like he’s the king of the world and what he just said was the funniest joke ever.

He’s wearing a navy green T-shirt that’s wrapped tightly around his muscles, making him look like he’s ready for war. I’ve never met a man like Gunnar before. Despite his boyish impishness, he’s dripping in manliness from head to toe.

I still can’t believe what we did in the women’s locker room at his gym. That was completely out of character for me. I’m normally super hesitant when it comes to guys; I’m standoffish, I take things slowly, and even when I let a guy make a move on me, the most they ever get is a kiss.

A single kiss, that’s the farthest I’ve ever gone with a guy, and yet four days ago I was on my knees with Gunnar Jones’s enormous cock in my mouth, swallowing his cum as eagerly as I could.

It still feels like something out of a dream as I think about it now and as I look at him sitting strongly beside me.

I actually did dream about it the last four nights–doing all that and more. Much more. Of course I can’t tell Gunnar about that now. It would only inflate his already massive ego.

“So where is this place you’re taking me?” I ask.

“Deadwood Gun Range,” he replies. “Gotta show you how to handle a weapon.”

“Right. Just in case I have to blow some guy’s head off?”

“That’s right.” He nods. “The world’s not nice, Nina.”

“You know I don’t own a gun, though, right?”

“Well we’ll have to take care of that, won’t we?”

Before I can say another word, Gunnar slams on the gas, and we slide through a corner like we’re on a race track. I grab on to anything I can get my hands on as the Porsche rockets forward. I can hear him chuckling beside me, clearly getting a kick out of scaring me shitless.

It’s only a matter of minutes of him driving like a psycho before we’re pulling onto a dirt road with the sign for Deadwood Gun Range. All the rest of the vehicles are trucks or vans, but I can just tell that Gunnar doesn’t feel even remotely out of place as he parks beside a lifted Ford F-150.

“Here we are, princess.” He smirks. “Time to be badasses.”

He hops out, and before I can even push my door all the way open, he’s doing it for me, doing an over-the-top impersonation of a gentleman. He even bows his head like he’s a butler or something, extending his hand.

“Why thank you, my fine sir,” I say, putting on a silly Victorian accent as I take his hand and step out into the dirt.

“What are you, a queen now?”

“Always have been,” I reply with a teasing smile. “And you’re my squire. Now lead the way.”

“Oh, you better watch out trying to boss me around, missy,” Gunnar replies, snatching me up and tossing me over his shoulder like I weigh absolutely nothing. I squeal and laugh as he marches forward. “You just remember who’s in charge here!”

He carries me away from the cars and up to a small building where he sets me down. I can hear gunshots echoing off in the distance, and know that I would be way more nervous than I already am if I wasn’t here with him. But having him by my side gives me a confidence that despite knowing absolutely nothing about guns, everything will be okay.

We sign in with an old man sporting a lumberjack’s beard and an American flag hat. I have to show my driver’s license, and as the man is handing it back to me, he gives me a sly glance and a frown.

“Not one of them terrorists, are ya?”

“What?” I gasp. “No!”

Gunnar laughs and throws an arm around me. “Meet Ned. He’s just screwing with you.” He pulls me out the door and calls over his shoulder, “We’ll see ya later, Ned!”

“Don’t let that little girl shoot herself!” Ned calls after us.

“What did he just say!?” I ask as we step outside.

“Just ignore him,” Gunnar says. “Come on, let’s get a couple of pop guns and get shooting.”

Gunnar leads me over to the range where a few people are shooting. There’s an instructor there he apparently is friends with named Chuck, who he introduces me to, and Chuck helps us pick out a couple of pistols from their selection.

“This right here is a Glock 19,” Chuck tells me. “Very easy to use, 9mm caliber, 15 round magazine, great for people who have never fired a weapon before and can be carried concealed quite easily.”

“That’d be great for Nina here,” Gunnar chimes in. “We’re gonna need to get her a concealed carry here soon if she ends up going on any more sketchy-ass app dates with guys who want to rape her.”

“Oh my God,” I groan, covering my face with my hand as Chuck looks over at me, clearly not knowing what’s going on.

“Oh, Nina didn’t fill you in on that?” Gunnar asks him, clearly happy to just put my business all out in the streets. “Yeah, she had some real creepy dickhead try to assault her in a back alley the other night. That’s why she’s enlisted my help to turn her into a real hardcore, Charlize Theron-ass bitch who can handle herself next time she puts herself in one of those situations.”

“Yeah, only I’m put myself in one of those situations again, thank you very much,” I chime in.

“Well, good,” Gunnar chuckles. “Because life’s not a movie, know what I’m saying? I can teach you every trick in the book, Nina, but if you don’t get the drop on one of these guys like you’re John Wick, you’re in deep shit.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, let’s get shooting then.”

“All right!” Gunnar cheers, slapping me on the ass. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

As a matter of range protocol, Chuck has to be the one to show me how to operate the gun before any shooting can take place. He instructs me on how to load and unload the pistol, how to check if a round is in the chamber, and drills into me several times to never point the gun anywhere but down-range.

“Always treat the firearm as though it were loaded, understand?” Chuck asks.

“Yes, sir.” I nod. Something about him just makes me feel as though I’m in the military, speaking to a superior officer.

“Now, Gunnar, you wanna show her how to take a shot?”

“Sure, I’ll do the honors. If that’s okay with the range, of course.”

Chuck laughs and steps aside. “By all means.”

Smiling, Gunnar steps up and wraps his arms around me, taking my hands in his. His thick, muscular body presses up against mine, and I can’t help but think about what he looked like naked while I was kneeling on the floor beneath him.

“Okay, so you want to hold it like this,” he says softly into my ear. “This hand on the grip and this hand over the top just like that. There you go. See? You’re a natural.”

His words are soothing, filling me with a confidence I didn’t even know I had. I feel his scruff scrape against my neck as he leans closer. He even smells like dirt and oil or something, like he’s been working on a motorcycle this morning. Gunnar is so far away from the guys in my classes at school he might as well be from another planet.

“Take aim at that asshole right there,” he whispers, moving my hands for me to the target of a guy standing in front of the dirt hill in front of us. “Pretend he’s your date from the other night. Pretend he’s got another girl ready to go out with him and you’ve got to stop him or he’s gonna pull the same shit on her.”

Out of nowhere, a hot heat of rage swells inside of me, and I’m right back in that alley with Brian on top of me, tearing at my dress.

“Keep both eyes open,” Gunnar says. “Look down the sights, align them right on his center mass, then exhale and slowly squeeze the trigger.”

The gun bucks more than I was expecting, and the sound is louder than I thought it would be, but my earplugs help a lot.

“There we go!” he exclaims. “Nailed the son of a bitch!”

“Did I?” I ask, shocked and smiling.

“Take a look!” He gently lowers the pistol and points at the target, to a hole directly in the center of the fake-attacker’s chest. “That looks like a hit to me. How’s it look to you?”

I turn back to him, filled with excitement and disbelief.

“It looks like a hit!”

“You’re goddamn right.” He smiles. “Goddamn, Nina, you’re one badass bitch. Come on, let’s shoot some more.”

“Who’s that? Don’t tell me that’s Gunnar Jones!” A female voice rings out behind us, and Gunnar and I both turn around to see a blond girl standing about twenty feet away. The best way I can describe her would be “tactical.”

She’s definitely good-looking, tan, has an American flag hat on, a gun holster on a heavy-duty belt looped through a very worn pair of blue jeans, and like Gunnar, has a navy green T-shirt on. She has her arms crossed in a semi-confrontational fashion and is glaring at him with pursed lips.

I don’t know why, but I immediately feel small.

“Holy shit,” Gunnar says slowly. “Jessica Morgan.”

Letting go of me, he marches right over to her and throws his arms around her and pulls her in for an enormous hug.

“How the hell you been, girl? You look skinny. You been eating?”

“You commenting on my body, Gunnar? That’s sexual harassment these days. I could call somebody about that.”

Both of them crack up and share a laugh that sparks a pang of painful jealousy inside of me.

She looks nothing like me, and I could never picture her ever wanting to be friends with me. But she looks like she and Gunnar have some sort of history, and for some reason, that bothers me.

“Oh, you know you like it,” Gunnar teases as he lets go of her and gives her an over-the-top glance up and down. “Not like you’re getting any in your personal life anyways. Is that why you’re here? Stalking me to try and get a date?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Gunnar. I’m here for some training.”

“Flatter myself?” Gunnar chuckles. “Please, you don’t wear a pushup bra like that to the range for some . Who told you I was gonna be here today–?”

I shut Gunnar up by unloading the rest of my entire magazine at the target I just hit and watch as the chest of the would-be-attacker vanishes as my bullets tear through it. I check to make sure the chamber of the Glock is empty, set it down on the bench, and turn to face both of them.

They’re both looking back at me with shock plastered all over their faces.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you two talking about something?” I ask, mostly looking at Gunnar. “Because I thought we were here to shoot, not screw around.”

Gunnar purses his lips and slowly nods. He gets it.

“Jess, this is Nina. Nina, this is Jess, an old shooting buddy of mine.”

“Old?” Jess protests, extending her hand to me. Not wanting to be a bitch, I take it and shake it, feeling calluses like I’ve only ever felt on a man’s hand before. She has a tough grip and squeezes hard before letting go. “You’re the only man here, Gunnar. What are you, like fifty?”

“A year from thirty, you old bag,” he laughs.

“All right, so anyway,” I say, “I should get back to campus. I’ve got classwork to do.”

Without waiting, I march away in the direction of the cars. We still have close to an hour left on our range time that Gunnar has rented, but if I have to stand here any longer and listen to those two flirting, I think I’m going to grab the nearest pistol and turn it on myself.

“Wait, what?” Gunnar asks, trotting after me. “Hang on a minute. Classwork?”

“You heard me.”

“But what about the range time I rented?”

“I’ll pay for it if you want,” I reply as we reach his Porsche. “I know how low on cash you are.”

Gunnar frowns and unlocks the car. “Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you do that? Hope in. I’ll drive you back.”

The ride back to campus is mostly silence, which is pretty awkward. I can’t stop thinking about Jessica and how differently Gunnar acted around her.

What’s their history? Did they date? Have sex?

I want to ask him about her, but I just can’t find the courage to, and before I realize it, he’s pulling into the lot in front of my dorm.

“Well, here you are, princess. Right back home for you to get all that done.”

I can hear the disappointment in his voice and hide my eyes from him as I reach into my purse and pull out my keys.

“Thanks for the ride and taking me to the range–”

“What is that?” he asks, taking my keys from my hands. “Four days and you haven’t bought some pepper spray for your keychain? Come on, Nina, what did I tell you?”

“It’s not a big deal, all right?” I grumble, shoving the door open. “I live on a college campus. It’s not like it’s filled with serial murderers and rapists. I’ll see you later, Gunnar.”

“College guys can be real dickheads!” he calls after me as I close the door behind me. “You watch out for yourself, Nina!”

I hear the tires of his Porsche squeal behind me as he peels out and pulls out of the lot. A guy beside me stands up and takes a quick snapshot of the car and glances at me, astonished.

“Holy shit! Was that Gunnar Jones?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, brushing past him.

“Jesus! Were you two like–on a date or something?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Or something.”