Page 99 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

A fter speaking with Fausto, I went for a walk to clear my head.

I desperately wanted to clean the metaphorical blood off my hands…

Although I feared that was impossible.

I ran into Dante over by the barn.

“Haven’t seen you around the last 24 hours,” he said.

I replied with a vague half-truth. “I had some business I had to attend to. Could I ask you a favor?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“I need to learn how to use a gun.”

“Just point… and shoot,” he said, mimicking pulling a trigger.

“Smartass,” I said, and he grinned. “I need to be able to hit a target 30 feet away.”

“Ah, well, that’s something entirely different.”

“Can you help me?”

“Sure. I’m assuming a pistol?”

“Yes.”

“Revolver or semi-automatic?”

“I don’t know anything about guns,” I admitted. “Which is better?”

“Revolvers are simpler and more reliable, and the shell casings stay in the gun after you fire them. Semi-automatics have more bullets and are easier to reload, but the shell casings fly out as you shoot. Not something you like to leave behind for the cops to find.”

I pondered my options for a second. “I’m not worried about the cops. So, until I become a good shot, I think I should err on the side of more bullets.”

“Follow me, then.”

He led me into the barn, where two dozen large, black, hard-shell cases were stacked in an old horse stall. He pulled one out and placed it on the ground.

“Why aren’t these in the house?” I asked.

“They’re backup.”

“Backup for what?”

“In case something happens at the house.”

He opened the black case, revealing a layer of grey foam. Four pistols lay in cut-out hollows that matched their outlines.

Dante selected the smallest gun and ejected the clip from the handle, then pulled back the top of the gun to check for bullets.

“Sig Sauer P365. Ten rounds, micro-compact, designed for easy concealment. It’ll probably fit your hand better than anything else we’ve got. Try it.”

I held the gun. It fit snugly into my palm.

Although the sensation of metal against my skin felt foreign, I’d seen so many American movies with guns that it somehow also felt… right.

I turned towards Dante with the gun in my hand. “It’s – ”

“First lesson,” he said, pushing the barrel of the gun away from him. “Never point a gun at anybody you don’t intend to kill.”

“But it’s empty,” I protested.

“Second lesson: don’t be careless.”

“…point taken,” I conceded.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Alright – I’ll take you out in the woods and we’ll fire a few rounds.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully.

“Any reason in particular you need to know how to shoot?”

“To protect myself.”

“Anybody in particular you need to protect yourself from?” he asked, with just the barest hint of a smirk.

“A man,” I replied coolly.

“Those are generally the ones you have to watch out for,” Dante said as he grabbed the pistol’s magazine, the spare bullet, a box of ammo – and a black cylinder almost as long as the gun itself.

“Is that a silencer?” I asked.

“It’s a suppressor. They only call them silencers in the movies.”

“Is that a suppressor?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why do we need that?”

“Considering unregistered guns are very illegal, it’s probably a good idea not to advertise that we’re firing one off in the woods.” He gave me a smile. “Especially if you don’t want a ‘man’ to know that you’re learning to use it.”

I returned a grateful smile, and we began walking towards the woods.