As she got dressed, she thought, Hell, the cartel business must be going really well, because Fitz had to be real bored to be hanging out with a little sassy-ass girl from Virginia.
Whatever it was, inside, she was happy, because this was the part of Miami that she had always envisioned: living the glamorous life, eating the best food, drinking the finest wine, rolling in the hottest automobiles with the most powerful men in Miami—hell, maybe in the whole country. The roller coaster ride of Miami, with its twists and turns, was getting more intense by the second.
They two walked into a huge gun store, where everybody greeted Fitz and was happy to see him. He was led to his locker, which, when he opened it up, looked like the artillery from Terminator or some gangsta movie. Hell, what did she expect? After all, she was with a real life gangsta.
He purchased her a pair of ear coverings. “Here, honey. You are going to need these, and I will have someone bring you some eyewear as well. Have you ever shot a gun before?”
“No, I haven’t,” she admitted, secretly wishing she had.
“Fitz, how are things?” a guy greeted him.
“Going great. We have to get a nice piece for Ms. Bianca here.”
“Well, we have some new stuff over here.” He pointed to a case.
Bianca looked into the case.
“Baby, pick whichever you want.”
“I can get the one that I really like?”
“Yes, baby. You can get any gun in here,” Fitz said. He was a little preoccupied with talking to his one of his gun buddy friends.
“We have 22s, 25s and 380s here, some really nice ones,” the salesman told her. “These are very popular with the ladies.”
Bianca didn’t respond to him.
“We even have them in pearl handles, and pink ones as well.”
Bianca kept looking at the guns, until she decided on one that clicked with her spirit. “Okay, so that’s it.” She tapped on the glass of a gun that was in the case by itself.
“Are you sure?”
When the guy hesitated, she called out to Fitz. “Baby, I want this one,” she confidently said.
Giving his homeboy dap and assuring him, Fitz said, “She can have whatever she wants.” He walked up to see what she picked.
“She picked the TrackingPoint rifle.”
When Fitz heard what she had chosen, a proud smile covered his face. He was definitely impressed that, having no knowledge at all of guns, she picked a powerful one.
“Are you trying to stop a person or a truck?” the guy asked.
“No, sweetie, it’s fine. It packs a lot of power,” Fitz informed her.
“I like power.”
“Well, I got power for you.” He grabbed the gun and boxes of ammo, then they headed toward the door and into the back of the store.
Before going down the stairs, he looked at her and placed the earmuffs over her ears. Once at the bottom of the stairs, she could smell the strong scent of gunpowder. Inside the range, there were a bunch of folks already shooting. Bianca and Fitz were greeted by the range master, who was in charge.
“Give me five minutes,” he said to Fitz and then went to all of the patrons and whispered something in each one’s ear. They all cleared out within minutes, so that Fitz and Bianca could have it to themselves.
Afterward, Fitz placed a target up, sending it on the string about one hundred feet away, and sending hers about fifty feet away.
“You ready, li’l mami?”
“Let me see what you got, big papi,” she joked with her hand on her hip.
He placed his glasses over his eyes and proved he had the aim of a sharpshooter as he let it rip, bulls-eyeing every single shot.
“Oh, wow! Impressive!” She gave him a high five. “Yes, baby, yes!” Bianca looked at him, wearing black from head to toe, holding his black 40-caliber H&K P2000 handgun, noticing how sexy his physique was. She tried not to stare, but her body betrayed her. She hated that she could feel her thirstiness for his hotness. The way he gripped the pistol made her feel so protected and secure.
“Good job, honey!”
Though neither would admit it, Fitz felt the electricity between the two of them as well. He leaned in close to her, moved her earplugs to the side, and whispered in her ear in a sexy tone, “Baby, always know that I hit the target and the spot every single time.”
“I’m not mad at that. I’m going to definitely give your props. I always give them when they are due.”
He helped her getting aligned, holding her waist while being seductive in a flirty kind of way. “Now, assume the position like I showed you, and let her rip.”
She did as she was told, studied the target, and then let off, hitting every one, just as he had.
“What?” He sat in shock. “Hell, naw!”
“Hell, yeah!” she said as a smile took over her beautiful face. Holding that gun in her hand made her feel invincible.
Fitz waited for the proof to come in, because he still couldn’t believe it. Then, after grabbing the target and studying it with his own eyes, there was only one way to describe it: “Beginner’s luck!” Fitz said it, but he was secretly more excited than she was. “My little fucking marksman!” He gave her high five. “Well, excuse me. I’ve created a marks-lady. My shooter! My shoota! This could go real good . . . or a lot of motherfuckers could be in a bunch of trouble.” He was happy, boasting on Bianca’s target practice. “You’re a natural.”
And just when he least expected it, she had to rub it in and go in for the kill. She leaned into him and seductively said back to him, “You hit the spot every time? Know this: I always hit the mark every single time.”
“Well, we might be able to do something.” He smacked her hard on her plump behind, wondering what the
