That’s the last time that’s happening.
I make note of which old ladies decided to make their opinions known so I can beat their old men up later.
I drape my arm over Nevaeh’s shoulder. Fay-Lee sticks to her side after flipping some sweetbutts the bird. Yeah. I like her.
I leave Nevaeh with Fay-Lee at the bar while I grab a compact 9mm and eye and ear protection from the armory. Leaving her in the commons is intentional. It’ll only take a minute, and I want someone to approach her. I feel like laying down a lesson.
When I come back, though, all is copasetic. Crista’s working the bar. She’s come over to chat, and everyone else is steering clear.
Good. I’ll accept that for now.
“Ready, baby?”
Nevaeh kneels up on the bar stool to give Crista a hug—startling the hell out of her before she laughs and goes with it—and then my girl jumps down and leads the way out back.
“You coming, Fay-Lee?” she asks.
“Nope. I’m gonna hang with Crista here and get caught up.”
I follow, watching her ass twitch in her tie-dyed booty shorts. She’s wearing a matching cropped hoodie and white tennis shoes and ankle socks. Her hair’s a wild bramble, she’s tanned from hours lounging on the back patio, and toned from marathon sex, and from what she tells me, sessions in the home gym while I’m gone.
As soon as we shoot off a few rounds, I’m taking her upstairs, pulling those shorts to her knees, and eating her out ‘til she pulls my hair. She loves oral to a point, and then all she wants is cock. She’s not shy about letting me know what she needs, either.
I adjust myself in my jeans as I jog over to the recycling to grab a few bottles. There’s a clearing at the far side of the yard that leads to a gully overrun by a thicket. There’s no dirt bike trails or hunters back that way ‘cause the terrain is impassable until you hit the base of the foothills a few miles away. We use it as a range when we can’t get to the one in Shady Gap.
I set the bottles on the closer stumps. Nevaeh used to be a decent shot, but I don’t know if she’s kept up with it.
“When’s the last time you shot a gun?”
I put flat to flat and slide the magazine home. Then I rack a round into the chamber, take the magazine out and put another round in so she’s loaded plus one.
“When’s the last time you took me to the range?”
“You remember the rules?”
“Point the muzzle in a safe direction.”
“Yeah. And?”
“Don’t rely on the safety.”
“And?”
“Assume it’s loaded. Know what’s beyond your target.”
“You’re forgetting the important one.”
“Make sure the barrel’s clear?”
“Yes, but?”
“Oh. If I shoot, make it a kill shot. Don’t stop shooting.”
I sigh. She’s rusty. As soon as this shit with the Raiders is put to bed, we’re putting in some hours at the range.
“Put your muffs and glasses on.” She covers her ears and eyes while I line up a shot. Thirty yards. Once upon a time, I could make the shot lefthanded with one eye shut.
I use a two-handed grip and exhale as I squeeze the trigger. A bottle explodes. Lucky me, it was the one I was aiming at. These days, I need more than a few shots to warm up.
“Your turn.” I hand her the gun, and I take a step back, but I stay close and alert. Nevaeh needs to know how to protect herself, but she’s also still Nevaeh. A cute squirrel comes running past, all bets are off.
She’s different now in some ways. When we were kids, she was always on to the next thing. Nothing could hold her attention.
Now, she gets serious about something, she doesn’t let it go. Like she was gonna cook me dinner, have it ready when I got home from huntin’ Rab. First day, she forgets to defrost the meat. We order pizza. It’s not a thing. I don’t expect dinner. I’m not my father, bitchin’ that he’s got to wait a few minutes ‘cause plates aren’t on the table the second he walks in the door.
Well, she tries again the next day. Meat’s defrosted. She’s gonna make burgers and corn on the cob. She’s shucking the corn on the porch when I get home. Smiling and chatting, happy as can be. Cuts up onions and makes the patties from scratch. Smells amazing. She forgot the buns. Which is weird ‘cause it starts with a b. She gets mad, kicks a kitchen cabinet, and hurts her foot.
Anyway, she’s kept at it, and we’ve had a few good meals and some more take out. So, that’s different. But she still has that distractible thing. I don’t think she can control it. And with a weapon, you need to be focused.
In normal times, I wouldn’t want her armed, but the Raiders are a real threat. I think what they did to Crista all those years ago…I think Scrap showed restraint by only beating the man to death. I would have ripped him limb from limb.
Nevaeh lines up her shot.
“Exhale as you squeeze the trigger.”
“I can’t do two things at once, Forty.”
Sweet Lord.
She shoots and dings a stump. There’s no bottle on it, but it’s right next to a stump that does have one, so there’s that.
“Are you lining up the sight?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aiming with your dominant eye?”
“Are you gonna nag me the whole time?”
“You gonna hit the target?”
We’re shouting at each other due to the ear protection, but we’re also smiling. I love it when she gives me shit.
She takes her time on the next shot, and she takes a chunk out of the stump with a bottle on it. Her grin goes from ear to ear.
I take a turn, nail a bottle on the farthest stump, in the tree line. I shouldn’t be proud of such an easy shot, but my chest does prickle a little. Nevaeh claps and hoots.
She’s doing better with each shot, and we’ve got a good hour or so of daylight left, when a prospect comes pounding up behind us from the clubhouse.
It’s Wash, the idiot who did such a shit job of keeping an eye on Nevaeh before.
“Boss! You gotta come back. We found him!”
“Found who?” Nevaeh takes her eye off the target to ask me. The gun’s still aimed downrange. This is what I’m talking about. Distractible. I gently press her arm so she lowers the weapon.
“No one.” I don’t mean to be a dick, but she doesn’t need to know. It’s my job to make sure any shit that goes down can never blow back on her, legally or otherwise. Wash shouldn’t have said anything in front of her. He and I will have words.
I take Nevaeh’s gun back, release the magazine and clear the chamber. “We got to go back. You can hang in my room.”
Her face falls. Yeah, I don’t like it either.
“Do you need to go back out?”
“Probably.”
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Give me your keys. I’ll drive myself back to Gracy’s Corner.”
I’m shaking my head before she finishes her proposition. If we have Rab, the rest of the Raiders are gonna mobilize. She’s safest here. Besides, I sent Boom home when we left for the clubhouse. There’s no protection at the house.