Page 73 of Forty

Now, she gets serious about something, she doesn’t let it go. Like she was gonna cook me dinner, have it ready when I got home from huntin’ Rab. First day, she forgets to defrost the meat. We order pizza. It’s not a thing. I don’t expect dinner. I’m not my father, bitchin’ that he’s got to wait a few minutes ‘cause plates aren’t on the table the second he walks in the door.

Well, she tries again the next day. Meat’s defrosted. She’s gonna make burgers and corn on the cob. She’s shucking the corn on the porch when I get home. Smiling and chatting, happy as can be. Cuts up onions and makes the patties from scratch. Smells amazing. She forgot the buns. Which is weird ‘cause it starts with ab. She gets mad, kicks a kitchen cabinet, and hurts her foot.

Anyway, she’s kept at it, and we’ve had a few good meals and some more take out. So, that’s different. But she still has that distractible thing. I don’t think she can control it. And with a weapon, you need to be focused.

In normal times, I wouldn’t want her armed, but the Raiders are a real threat. I think what they did to Crista all those years ago…I think Scrap showed restraint by only beating the man to death. I would have ripped him limb from limb.

Nevaeh lines up her shot.

“Exhale as you squeeze the trigger.”

“I can’t do two things at once, Forty.”

Sweet Lord.

She shoots and dings a stump. There’s no bottle on it, but it’s right next to a stump that does have one, so there’s that.

“Are you lining up the sight?”

“Yes.”

“Are you aiming with your dominant eye?”

“Are you gonna nag me the whole time?”

“You gonna hit the target?”

We’re shouting at each other due to the ear protection, but we’re also smiling. I love it when she gives me shit.

She takes her time on the next shot, and she takes a chunk out of the stump with a bottle on it. Her grin goes from ear to ear.

I take a turn, nail a bottle on the farthest stump, in the tree line. I shouldn’t be proud of such an easy shot, but my chest does prickle a little. Nevaeh claps and hoots.

She’s doing better with each shot, and we’ve got a good hour or so of daylight left, when a prospect comes pounding up behind us from the clubhouse.

It’s Wash, the idiot who did such a shit job of keeping an eye on Nevaeh before.

“Boss! You gotta come back. We found him!”

“Found who?” Nevaeh takes her eye off the target to ask me. The gun’s still aimed downrange. This is what I’m talking about. Distractible. I gently press her arm so she lowers the weapon.

“No one.” I don’t mean to be a dick, but she doesn’t need to know. It’s my job to make sure any shit that goes down can never blow back on her, legally or otherwise. Wash shouldn’t have said anything in front of her. He and I will have words.

I take Nevaeh’s gun back, release the magazine and clear the chamber. “We got to go back. You can hang in my room.”

Her face falls. Yeah, I don’t like it either.

“Do you need to go back out?”

“Probably.”

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me your keys. I’ll drive myself back to Gracy’s Corner.”

I’m shaking my head before she finishes her proposition. If we have Rab, the rest of the Raiders are gonna mobilize. She’s safest here. Besides, I sent Boom home when we left for the clubhouse. There’s no protection at the house.

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