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Of watching and listening.
Of making sure that, if I needed to, I was ready to deal with the worst mankind had to offer.
My instinct has me pulling my snub-nosed revolver out of my purse. It’s a .38 Special and has gone with me everywhere since I left Washington.
It fits in my purse or my pocket.
Small and hammerless, there’s no chance of it catching on my clothes.
Perfect for concealed carry.
These are the things that matter if and when you ever need to use it.
George helped me get this one when I left home to come here.
His connections got me a fake ID that can pass any amount of scrutiny.
He helped me get a lot of things after Mom’s death.
Just as I’m about to walk up the brick path to the front door, I hear a scream coming from the side of the house and immediately change direction. Even with my hackles raised, I still half expect to see Belle having fallen and hurt herself. Something that would have caused her to scream. Something that could be explained.
What I see when I get to the open kitchen door will haunt me for years.
A woman, a customer of mine named Leah, is holding a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. Something about Leah has seemed off these past few weeks. Belle and I have talked about it, but she dismissed it. She convinced me Leah was just a little different. A little needy.
Crazy but harmless.
She’s typically posh and put together. Her dirty blonde hair, that’s usually bouncy and blown out, hangs greasy around her shoulders. Dark, smudged circles under her eyes are stark against her pale skin.
Judging by the way she has her gun pointing at Belle, I should have listened to my gut.
I’m not going to make that mistake now.
There are two men in the room. Sebastian Beneventi and a tall man who looks like Bash.
No one has noticed me yet.
When Leah’s gun is pointed in Bash’s direction, the other man speaks up in an alarmingly commanding voice. “You’re aiming a gun at my brother. You don’t want to do that.”
I guess he’s Sebastian’s brother. I’ve only heard of one. I’m not sure if he has more.
Leah laughs. She actually laughs. Hysterically.
“Oh, yeah? And who exactly are you supposed to be? The cavalry? It doesn’t look like you’re in any position to tell me what to do, now does it?” She swings her gun between the other Beneventi and Bash, who’s blocking Belle from the path of the gun. “One of us has a gun in this room, and it’s not any of you.”
“You have no idea who I am, lady, or the slow, painful ways I can make you beg for death before I finally give in and kill you.” This was apparently the last straw for Leah because she lunges for this guy.
Bash tries to block the weapon-wielding psychopath from whoever this guy is and takes a knife to his side in the process. I can’t tell how deep it is, but blood is pouring down his side, staining his grey hoodie.
This is what I was trained for all those years ago. Safety. Protection.
Damnit. I never wanted to need to use a gun again.
But I guess I always knew I’d have to.
The tall stranger lunges to take Leah down, but Belle gets to her first when she swings a three-foot animatronic T-Rex at her head, causing her to stumble but not fall.
When Leah turns around frantically and points the gun at the gorgeous man who’s not Bash, I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. I go back to my afternoons spent in the shooting range in George’s basement in the woods.
