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Before: Shootin' Practice


Ashley

Nick was just coming out of the Bass Pro Shop carrying a large bag under his arm, staring down at his phone when I ran up to him. "I know how he found us," I gasped, coming to a stop. Nick looked up from his phone, perplexed. "We installed these apps on our phones to locate the phones." I shoved my cell phone into Nick's hand. "He knows we're in Nashville, Nick."

He stared down at the screen I had pulled up. The map. My phone on Nashville, Chris's phone on Boston. He swallowed. "Well, the good thing is we know he's still in Massachusetts," Nick said slowly. He pointed to the screen. "This is a two way street. He might be able to see us, but he we can see him, too."

I hadn't thought of that.

Nick took a deep breath. "And now we know."

"Why's he still in Boston, though?" I asked, "What if he found out about Patrick somehow?"

"I'm sure Patrick's okay. Maybe he just hasn't noticed the phone relocated yet," Nick suggested.

"Maybe," I stared down at the little blip that was the location of Chris's phone.

Nick looked around, "Hey let's go get the groceries then get back to the house. I wanna put this thing together and get some practice in."

"Practice?" I asked warily as Nick steered Zoey's empty stroller along ahead of us and we started walking back to the car.

"Well yeah, I can't just expect to instantly know how this thing handles," he said, "I gotta shoot a few rounds to get to know it, you know?"

I stared at him. "Where are you gonna do that?"

"The backyard," he said.

"What are you mental?" I demanded.

"No," he said, "I'm not mental. I want to learn how to shoot this thing right so you're safe."

"I don't like it that you got that thing to begin with, now you're gonna just shoot things with it at random in the back yard?"

"I'm not gonna just shoot things," Nick argued, "I got targets. I got things to practice shooting."

"Nick, c'mon, you can't seriously think this is a good idea."

"What'd you think I was gonna do, just drop a grand on a Glock and leave it in the little suitcase thingy it came in? Ashley, I'm gonna learn how to shoot this son of a bit an I'm gonna keep it with me at all times until Chris is behind bars like he belongs."

I stared up at Nick as we reached the car. He folded down Zoey's stroller and shoved it into the trunk, then lifted her out of the sack on my chest and leaned into the car to put her into the car seat. "What if you get hurt," I demanded, "What if you shoot your eye out or something?"

"I'm not Ralphie, for Christ's sake," Nick replied, backing out of the car again. Zoey was safely strapped in. We climbed into the car and Nick put his bag with the Glock on the floor on my side. I stared down at it. "Ashley, baby..." his voice was thick, serious. I looked over at him quarely. "I love you," he said, "And I promise you... with every fiber of my body and soul... I'm gonna be careful with this thing."

I took a deep breath, "You swear?"

"Cross my heart," he replied.

I sighed.




Nick

It was the Glock G21 .45. It was silver. It gleamed up at me from the box where it was perfectly cradled by foam. I lifted it from the foam carefully, afraid of the finger prints my hands made on its perfectly polished body. I did just like the guy told me to load it and prep it. I'd already set up my target across the yard. I put the bullets in and the gun clicked, prepared.

I stood up, angled the gun and asked it, "Are you ready to be shot for the first time?"

It didn't answer, of course.

I felt like James fuckin' Bond.

Carter. Nick Carter.

I stood straight, brought the gun up, my arm extended ahead of me. I squinted, my tongue stuck out a little, and I pulled the trigger. The shot was louder than I expected, the force of the gun firing stronger than I'd guessed. The bullet sailed across the backyard and hit the shed.

"Fuck," I whispered.

The shed was about thirty feet to the left of where I'd set the target up.

I looked around. Nobody saw that, right? Ashley was no where to be seen an the yard was fenced in. Shy of a passing helicopter and the buzzing cicaidas I was safe.

I leveled the gun again. This time, I was expecting the kickback. This time, I knew the power of the gun and the force of the blast. I was expecting it more, so I had more control on the thing. When I pulled the trigger, the bullet sailed into the target on the outermost ring from the bullseye. Not bad, I told myself, considering the first shot fired.

I aimed again, squinting, tongue out, trigger pulled... and bam. This time, the fourth ring out. Downright impressive, I thought. I was a regular Nicky the Kid, I thought to myself. I would've been damn awesome back in them Wild Wild West days. I pictured myself as owner of half of California, my gun-slingers' reputation proceeding me. I blew off the barrell of the gun, like I was meeting my opponent at high noon.

Okay so maybe I was being a little cocky.

The shed certainly thought so.

The back door opened and Ashley stepped out on to the deck, the baby monitor we'd bought at the store (we'd left our old one at Patrick's) on her hip. She sat down in one of the lawn chairs and stared at me. I turned to face her, the gun carefully pointed the other direction. "C'mon, you gotta learn how to shoot this thing too," I told her.

"It's your gun," she said.

"Baby, what if you need to use it for some reason? You need to learn too. C'mon." I waved her over.

"Nick I don't need to learn how to use the gun," she said, "You aim it, you pull the trigger. It's not tht hard."

I shook my head, "You'd think that's it, but you'd be surprised by the force of this sucker. Aiming is easy but keeping it steady through the follow-up is damn near impossible..."

Ashley stared at me.

"Baby, please. I know you're afraid of the gun, I know. I know you think the gun is bad, but it's gonna keep us safe. Please." I held it out to her.

Ashley stood up, walked over, took the gun from my hand and stepped around me. I turned to show her how to do it, but she'd already cocked the barrell, leveled the gun, squinted as she aimed, and before I could say a word, she pulled the trigger and the bullet sailed straight through the bulls eye of the target.

My jaw dropped.

Ashley turned, reached into my pocket where I'd put the safety, clipped it on, handed the gun back, and said, "I told you. I don't need to learn how to shoot the fucking gun."

And then she went inside.

I stared t the door after it closed behind her, then turned to look at the target, pierced directly in the center by her bullet. I glanced at the shed. Then back at the door she'd just gone in.

"Sweet Jesus I'm in love with a fucking sniper," I whispered.