Page 57 of Protector

Surprisingly, both Jade and Brooks are good listeners. And talking to them, two people who are completely separate from all those things, has helped me come to terms with some of the things I was struggling with. Yesterday, I went running with Jade, and when we came back, and I was ready to collapse, she basically forced me into self-defense lessons. Apparently, Brooks has had a trainer coming here, working out with Jade and teaching her self-defense—which she is now passing on to me. Reflecting back on our conversation during that first lesson, I regret I did most of the talking. I suppose I didn’t want to be nosy too soon, but given the things I shared with her, I think it’s time I found out more about her.

“Need any help?” I call out to her as I stand and place my closed book on the bench.

“No, but come on over. I want to show you something.”

Hesitantly I slip my phone into my back pocket, then step down from the porch to make my way over to where she has stopped. Her determined expression is serious enough I’m a little wary of what’s about to go down. Whatever it is, she seems pretty confident as she swings the bag off her shoulder, then eyes me as she unzips it and pulls the flap over. My eyes widen when they land on a rifle.

“You afraid of guns?” she says just as I stop a few feet away from her.

Shaking my head, I answer, “No?” She laughs, and I quickly add, “I haven’t really been exposed to them, though, so…”

“Well, I figure while you’re here, you might as well make use of the time, and I can show you a few things. Are you interested?”

For some reason, I find myself smiling. After yesterday and now this…it’s as if for the first time in my life, I have a big sister looking out for me. “Yeah. I’m happy to learn whatever you want to teach me.”

She gives me a single nod, then goes about finishing what she was doing, speaking about how important taking control of her life was to making her feel safe again. I watch as she pulls some empty cans from a bag and walks them over to a couple of upturned wooden crates. They’re far enough away I’m not sure I could hit them. My eyes drift over to the rifle she has leaning up against a small wooden picnic bench that has seen its better days.

When she comes back over to me, she reaches behind her back, then pulls out a handgun, holding it up. “You ever held one of these?”

For some reason the gun makes me more nervous than the rifle, and I just shake my head. Seeming to read my mind, she puts it back where she pulled it from and raises her hands to her sides. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, so we’ll wait on that. For now, let me show you this rifle and some safety tips. You ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

“First and foremost, treat every gun as if it’s loaded. Safety needs to be your first concern.” She shakes her head, then huffs. “Brooks would kill me if anything happened to you.”

I let out a little gasp. “Wait? Does Brooks know about this?” I don’t know why I’m suddenly concerned, as if Brooks is the boss of me.

“Brooks knows how to take care of himself. Don’t you think you should be able to do the same?”

I nod. “Definitely.” I don’t know if I’d be able to do what it takes if or when the time comes, but I’d like to at least have the option. Who knows, coming face to face with Stalker Sam might just be the motivation I need to pull the trigger. I can’t imagine taking a life, but I don’t mind the thought of putting some hurt on him.

“Great. Let’s get started…beforeDadgets home.” The last part is mumbled under her breath.

Like an eager student, I hang on her every word as she tells me about the safety, how to stand, how to hold the rifle, both while shooting it and when you’re not. Once we’re done, the reality of it hits me, and I’m suddenly nervous to try it.

“Let’s see if you can shoot this thing now.”

My heart thunders against my ribs, but instead of handing it to me, she lifts the butt of it to her shoulder and aims at the cans, which I’m guessing are less than forty yards away. “Take two steps back,” she said calmly, her focus still on the cans.

“Wait? You’re really gonna shoot that?”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“Won’t somebody report it?“

Without looking at me, she mutters, “No, we’re far enough away, and besides, people around here are used to hearing gunshots.” Then she pulls the trigger, and an instant later, one of the cans flies off the crate.

Though the sound startles me, I let out a giggle. If only Cal could see me now. Instinctively, I reach for the phone in my back pocket but then think better of it. This is not the time for selfies or glamorizing what’s going on here.

Jade gestures for me to step into the spot she’s in, then helps me get the rifle into place. Once she’s sure I feel good, she steps back and away.

“Take your time. Your stance looks good. You should be able to take the recoil.” As I stand there silently readying myself, she speaks again. “Remember your breathing. It can throw off your aim.”

My heart racing, I stare at my target until I muster the courage to pull the trigger. Finally, I draw in a breath, let it out halfway like she told me, then squeeze the trigger. The gun jolts back, but the familiar ding of success gives me an adrenaline boost, and I yelp. Looking over at Jade for approval, I open my mouth and shout, “Shit. I can’t believe I hit that.”

“Damn, girl, you’re a natural.”

“Can I do it again?”

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