After hitting Send, I turned my attention to the maps spread under and around the laptop.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
“Tracing Henri’s payment from the brothels in Roseland.”
“Ah.” Not so ordinary after all. I sat down heavily at the table.
“He wouldn’t have skipped town, not with his entire business running out of Chicago. He’d stay near the money, which means he’s around here somewhere.” Lines of tension appeared in his forehead. “We need to find him soon. He’s already running. It’s time to go in for the kill.”
Guiltily, I thought of the Barracks. For all I knew, it might not be a good lead. It could even be a trap. Maybe I was protecting him by not telling him. But that was a bunch of bullshit. He’d want to know. As it was, he would be pissed at me for keeping it from him.
I was distracted from my guilt when he pulled out a gun and set it on the table. It was slightly smaller than the one Marguerite had given me but shaped the same.
“Why’d you bring a gun to the club?” he asked, his voice deceptively mild.
I shrugged. “A girl’s gotta stay safe.”
He made a noncommittal sound. “Speaking of safety, do you know how to use the safety?”
I gave a nervous laugh. “Duh.”
Marguerite had showed me a little metal ridge before I left. I couldn’t have reproduced her smooth actions, though. I had been too scared to touch the thing. From the look on Luke’s face, he knew that too, and he didn’t seem very happy about it.
“I’m going to teach you how to use this.”
“Really?” I was sure he’d tell me never to touch one again, not encourage the behavior.
He shook his head. “I don’t like you with this, but if you’re determined to have a gun, I know you can just get another one. I’d rather you know what you’re doing with it than shoot your leg off.”
Chapter Eighteen
We spent the next hour with him showing me how to load and unload the subcompact and covering the many safety rules. When I had passed each of his instructions and questions multiple times, he took me outside, armed with rubber earmuffs and eyewear. Red concentric circles had been painted on a couple of trees. With me standing behind him, he took aim and shot. The report was loud even through the earmuffs, and a small tuft of tree bark flew out from the center of the red circle and fell to the ground.
He handed the gun to me and stepped back. I looked at the gun, then back at him, but he only waited. Right.
I tried to remember what he’d told me. Widen my legs for a firm stance. Left thumb on the side, not wrapped around the back. Aim using the sights. Finger off the trigger until I was ready to shoot, and then pull, slowly, steadily, until—I blinked. A new hole had been created in one of the outer circles. Not even close to the center, but…I had hit a tree. That was a hell of an improvement over barely being able to look at the target. I laughed, giddy.
He was smiling too, but he nodded again toward the tree. I turned and shot off the rest of the clip. A few of them even landed inside the smallest circle.
When I was done, I set the empty gun down and jumped at him. It felt…freeing. Violent too, but maybe a little violence was what I needed in my life, perpetrated by me this time. It was exactly like Marguerite had said. I felt empowered, like I was doing something more than running, like I was finally fighting back. I knew that a single shooting session wasn’t enough to combat all of Henri’s men, but the real value was the power that coursed through me. I could fight back.
His grin faded slightly. “How’s your shoulder? Did the kick bother it at all?”
He was referring to my gunshot wound.
“It’s never felt better,” I said honestly. That small radius had always made me feel like a victim. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way.
“Listen,” I said. “Do you remember when I went in the bathroom with that girl?”
“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He got a faraway look. “I’m sorry I waited until you were gone to ask about Daisy. That wasn’t fair to you.”
Deep breath. “She told me something about Henri while we were talking.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “We were partners in there, and you should have had all the information.”
“There’s a warehouse or airport hangar or—”
“I just didn’t want you to think less of me,” he said.
Distracted, I asked, “Why would that make me think less of you?”
“The way I grew up.” He focused on me. “There was a reason I fit in so well at the club. I know you noticed.”