Page 60 of Resolution
“If that’s what makes you sleep better at night,” he chides. “Though I’m pretty sure you always wanted to jump me before you were pregnant, too.”
“You and your ego,” I rebut.
“You love my big ego.”
True. I love everything about him. But there’s no point in letting his head swell.
He shakes his head as if he can read my thoughts as he reaches for my hand. “Come on, let me show you around before your thoughts get carried away.”
24
Enzo
As I drive homefrom taking the tools back that I borrowed from Pops, I can’t wash the grin from my face. I can’t wait to show Samantha the finished nursery. I have kept her out since that first night, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face.
Just as I’m a couple of blocks from the house, I spot a girl similar to Maddie walking briskly down the street. She keeps swiping at her eyes and it’s obvious she’s upset. My heart pangs as I approach, hoping it’s not Maddie.
As I get within a few yards, it becomes clear, it’s her.Fuck. What’s wrong with her?I pull into an open spot just past her and rush to get out. The tears streaming down her cheeks and the blotchiness all over her face tells me she’s been crying for a while. “What’s wrong, Mads?”
She stops dead in her tracks and looks the other way. “I’m… fine,” she mutters between breaths, “it’s… Nothing.”
The hell it’s nothing. I’ve been around the block enough times to know a woman isneverfine. I square my shoulders and step into her path. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“I… Don’t… Want… To talk…About it,” is panted out between breaths.
“Well…” Fuck. Obviously, something’s wrong. I can’t just leave her like this. “Are you hurt or angry?” I look her over with care, trying to assess any physical damage.
“Pissed,” she croaks and relief washes through me.
“Pissed, I can handle. Come on. Get in the car.” I don’t wait for a response before walking to the driver’s door.
I see her hesitate for a moment before walking to the passenger side of my Range Rover. Once she’s in and buckled, I turn the engine over, flick my blinker, and do a U-turn.
Maddie doesn’t say anything, but her breathing begins to calm. It takes a few minutes before I can no longer hear sobs coming from her chest. Whatever it is, she’s pretty worked up. There’s only one place I know to go when I need to let off steam and it sure isn’t home.
After about five minutes of driving, Maddie looks around and finally breaks the silence. “Where are we going?”
I simply grin and state, “You’ll see.”
Within twenty minutes, we arrive at my intended destination. Maddie’s a lot like her mom and keeps her thoughts to herself when she’s upset. She eyes me suspiciously when we drive through the gates. Unlike Sam, Maddie has a filter, so I have no idea what’s going on in that head of hers.
We walk into the building and head down the elevator. As we arrive at my intended destination, Maddie’s eyes widen bigger than ever. Her mouth drops open and she sputters, “Wh… Wha… What are we doing?”
I walk over to my lockbox and open it. I set things down with precision so I can explain how to use everything safely when she’s ready. “Have you ever used one of these?”
“No…” comes out faintly. “I can’t say that I have.”
“Would you like to learn how?” I eye her cautiously to make sure she wants to learn.
“Sure.” She shrugs.
“Before I begin, I want to stress to you that you must always treat this gun as if it’s loaded. Never point it at anything you don’t intend to shoot, and keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. That means you’re aiming at your target and you’re ready to fire.”
Her eyes are on the semi-automatic pistol for a few moments before her eyes return to mine. “Okay.”
Before I’ll let her shoot anything, she needs to know how it works and the things she must do to use the weapon safely and efficiently. We discuss the frame, barrel, and action and how those components work, as well as how the features of the gun range itself works. I specifically point out the external safety and explain that it has to be disengaged before the gun can fire as well as the internal safety feature of this particular Glock. She asks questions freely and by the time I teach her how to load it and unload it, as well as make sure it’s clear, I can see her eagerness growing. I show her how to load shells into a magazine, then make sure she knows how to keep her thumb clear of the slide.
“You’ll only do it once if you forget this step.” She smiles in response and instinctively flexes her fingers, imagining the pain. Finally, I let her practice with dummy rounds to get the feel of it before firing a live round.
