“How about I take the gun and put it against my temple? Me dead stops all that.”
He tensed up and placed his lips against her ear. “Do not ever threaten that again, Arika. I mean it. Your death is not something I take very fucking lightly.”
“You’re angry.”
“You just threatened to kill yourself. Of course I’m angry.”
“It was just a joke.”
“A real fucking lame one. Now, make it up to me and shoot something.”
She took a deep breath, aimed, and fired. He held her hands, but she did all the work.
“Good.” He pressed the button, and the target came up to them.
She’d hit the space around the target. “Well, I can piss off air.”
He removed the target and replaced it with another. “I had my hands on you so it may have affected your targeting.” Once everything was back in place, he put his hands on her waist, staying close to her. “Aim for the chest.”
She took a deep breath and shot twice.
“Again.”
She shot again.
He pressed a button, and the target came into focus. “Were you thinking about me?”
Four bullets were inside the head of the target.
“I was aiming for his stomach.”
“Then let’s aim for his head this time and see what happens.”
For the next hour he kept making her shoot, practice after practice. She’d get some targets that she aimed for, and others just didn’t hit the right mark.
He wouldn’t let her stop though. This was important.
After five hours of practice, he knew it was time to call it quits. Packing away her targets into the box with his guns, which he’d unloaded, they left the range.
He helped her into the car, and they drove away.
“I didn’t like that place. As a date, it sucked big time.”
“I had no intention of calling it a date. Are you hungry?” To answer his question, her stomach growled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
They passed a drive-thru for burgers and he pulled in, ordering them both some food.
Their order had to wait, and he parked up in one of the available spots. The scent was making his mouth water. He didn’t like junk food like this, but for now it would do.
The position they were in, they saw inside the fast food joint. A family sat near a window. A girl no older than three was playing with a pony. A boy with a car and their parents were there too.
It looked like a good family outing, and he glanced over at Arika. For the first time, he saw a little hint of envy in her eyes. “Did you ever want to be adopted?”
“When I was a lot younger and I hadn’t been passed over so many times. Whenever new parents would come there was always that nervous excitement within the home, you know. They all wanted the chance at a different life. You never know what could have happened. I think most of the time we all just wanted to be loved.”
“Was your foster home not a loving one?”
“It was a good one. I mean, it helped us through a lot of tough times in our life, but it wasn’t exactly a place designed to be loving. They were there to do their job. I think it’s where I realized that we were work, you know. They were taking care of us, and some of them had homes to go back to. Families. I remember one Christmas when I believed in miracles and Santa and all that stuff. I asked for a family for Christmas. I know, rather lame, but I did. A family that loved me and would take care of me. Anyway, that never happened, and one of the new women that had been working at the home came back in the New Year. I was passing their office, and I happened to hear them talking. She talked about how amazing her Christmas was and what her kids had got and what her husband had got her. She was so happy. Showing pictures and then I heard her say she wished she didn’t have to come back to work at times. Then I knew that like a teacher or a receptionist or a secretary or a fireman, she was doing her job. Being paid to take care of us. I think I grew up that year. You?”
“I freaked the fuck out of the system to be honest. I hurt things. Whenever they were around me, they always looked terrified. They even blamed the cat’s death on me.”
“You killed a cat?”
“No. I didn’t kill a cat or a dog or a bunny. I liked to watch insects and occasionally see how they handled having their wings or legs pulled. I also liked playing with knives, and I’d sneak into the kitchen. They found me a few times carving up meat that was to be cooked. I was a freaky fucking kid.”