Blackstone Gun Range Novels & Stories

“This one. And the same for Ara.” “Okay. These are the bullets.” The man looked up. “Boss, does the boss know?” “No, and he doesn’t have to. Besides, he will definitely hear the noise. Let’s go.” The men followed her to the backyard, away from the mansion. They set up the shooting range and a bench for the ammunition. “Boss, do you know how to shoot?” “Yes, I remember a bit.” The man signaled his partner to go tell Bastien, who ran toward the mansion.

I want to live my life longer. A few minutes later we also got to the back of the house where Chandler took me yesterday to teach about the guns. I scanned the place, just now I saw this outdoor shooting range. "Let's start", Greyson cuts my thought again. I just followed him to a table where handguns were placed including my chosen gun yesterday. "Stewart told me you choose this Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum", he said as he picked up the gun on the table and loaded with magazine. "Use your hearing protection and protective eyewear." He instructed me while wearing his. I started putting all the protection needed and look at the target in front of us. I have trained eyes and I stare at the bull

Teeth and tongue and the taste of whiskey from the gala. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “Stubborn little slut,” he murmurs. Almost fond. The driver clears his throat. “Two minutes.” Damian nods. Pulls a small black pistol from inside his jacket, compact, matte finish. Check the chamber. Hands it to me grip-first. “You know how to use this?” I take it. Heavy. Cold. “Range day with Tunde last year. I can shoot straight.” “Good.” He pulls another from a concealed holster at his ankle. Tucks it into his waistband. “Stay behind me. Only shoot if you have to. Aim center mass. Don’t hesitate.”

Her hair flying in the wind. I blinked. Maybe I was imagining things. By the time we arrived at the shooting range, I had forced the thought away. I stepped out, adjusted my suit jacket, and walked in. The sound of gunfire echoed through the large hall. Men in protective gear aimed and shot at paper targets. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. A man hurried toward me. “Mr. Blackwood,” he greeted nervously. “We’ve prepared the samples you requested.”q I nodded. We began talking about business, contracts, weapons, numbers. The usual that the police were trying so hard to apprehend me for.

Onyx smirked before diving for the kill again- me ! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Nox’s POV I took out my anger on the nature-made shooting range across the waterfall. It was only open for the higher-ups and the crashing sound of the waterfall muffled the sounds of gunshots and gave a wide range to practice across the banks without the fear of hurting anyone.

Then she jogged upstairs to change clothes to meet Lacey. An hour and twenty minutes later, Layla and Lacey were walking into Tampa Guns and Range. The place was huge. As soon as they walked in, Layla saw guns everywhere — rifles, sniper rifles, shot guns, handguns, AKs, and scopes. The place also had bulletproof vests, sunglasses, crossbows, backpacks, and knives. “Can I help you ladies?” the man behind the glass casing at the end of the room asked. He had a buzz cut, and he was stout in stature.

He pushed himself from the barstool and disappeared through the doorway. Conner waited a moment, and then pushed the door open and stepped through. The change was startling. Whatever money had gone into the project was spent in here, converting the interior of the old warehouse into a first class shooting range. And it was obvious a considerable sum had been spent. Stretched out in front of him was a row of at least twenty stalls, each opening onto a wide shooting area longer than any he had ever seen, almost the length of a football field. The booths closest to him held black and white targets suspended from a mechanical track that allowed the shooter to select his desired range and to auto

"When have I ever been able to say no to you?" "A whole lot of times." She didn't give me a chance to respond, before taking my hand and dragging me away. ****** Other people might recommend a therapy session for me, but Bonnie believed that some shooting practice would help. She decided that we visit a shooting range early the next morning, before we set out for work. Crisp air and gunpowder greeted us when we arrived at the range. It was an outdoor range with a vast land. Good for me. I came with my own guns, as I was familiar with them. Bonnie decided that she was going to shoot too, and I let her have one.

One shot from that weapon and I get blown to bits. "Today is your day of reckoning, Blackstone. I have fucking endured you and your attacks on my territory for the past ten years." His voice darkens, becomes harder. "Not anymore. He flicks the safety off the gun. "Say your last prayer." His lips curve into a cold smile. "Better still, don't. You won't need it because you're going straight to hell…" Sudden commotion from outside the halls drown whatever Ramsey was about to say. Good. The Calvary is here. Took them long enough.

Black leggings, a fitted top, and sneakers. After lunch, Killian waited by the SUV. He didn’t look at me as I approached. He opened the passenger door like a proper guard. I slid in, the leather seat cool against my thighs. The drive to the private shooting range on the edge of our property was silent. Thick with tension. His hands gripped the wheel tight. I kept my eyes forward, but I was already wet just from being alone with him in the car. The range was empty when we arrived. It's private with high walls with no cameras in the main shooting area. Killian set up targets and handed me a small handgun. His fingers brushed mine for one second. Electricity shot through me.