Page 48 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

I’m still feeling groggy, although the throbbing pain in my leg is clear enough.

After hearing the crack outside last night, I was keyed up for at least an hour.

I didn’t hear anything afterward, so I put it down to a small rodent moving around or some other natural sound.

The interior of the barn is still dark, but the sun is just beginning to cast an early glow over the landscape.

Rather than hear the chirping of the birds, things seem too still.

Once again, I’m instantly on alert.

That almost always means a person, or multiple persons, are nearby.

My gun is sitting atop an old milk crate a few feet away.

Wearing only my thin boxers, I creep over to grab it and make my way over to one of the windows at the back of the structure.

There is no glass in the windows, only rough openings covered by simple wooden shutters.

I had pulled the car around back to keep it out of sight from the road, but it was still out in the open since there was nowhere to really hide it.

Anyone could easily spot it—and maybe someone had.

I couldn’t see anyone, but I could hear footsteps moving around the side of the old barn.

I carefully creep over to where Sophia is still sleeping.

Placing my hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming, I gently shake her awake.

As I expected, her eyes grow wide, and she attempts to let out a scream.

I put my finger to my lips and repeatedly point outside until she understands that I’m trying to tell her to keep quiet; someone is outside.

A voice suddenly booms out, “Alright, whoever you are in there, come out now with your hands up. I havea shotgun, and I sure as hell will blow a hole clean through you if you make one false move.”

It’s a tough decision.

Somehow, the owner of this voice doesn’t sound like he’s a pro.

For one thing, it sounds like he’s alone. Professional hitters almost always work in pairs.

It’s a calculated risk, but I think it’s one worth taking. Doing otherwise could put Sophia at more risk.

I set my gun down, but keep it within reach..

“If we’re trespassing, I’m sorry. I thought this barn was abandoned. We were just getting ready to leave.”

“We?”

“Yes,” I respond. “I’m here with a friend.”

“Well then, both of you come out. No funny stuff.”

“OK,” I call out. “I’m unarmed; we’re coming out.”

I push open the door, being careful not to make any sudden moves. I reach back and position Sophia behind me so she’s not in the direct line of fire.

It was hard to tell in the early light, but the man standing there with a double-barrel shotgun looks to be in his sixties with a rugged appearance. It’s hard to tell with his shaggy beard and uncombed hair.

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