by Kara Parker
“Rose. What’s happened?”
“I can’t say. But it’s bad. I can’t leave right now, and I don’t know when I can.”
“Okay. But…”
“No buts, William. You’re in charge now. Do what you have to and don’t worry about me.”
William is quiet for a long time, but Rose waits him out. “Okay. You got it.”
Rose breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks William. I knew I could count on you.”
“You don’t know when you will be back?”
“No. Several weeks probably. Maybe more.”
“Okay. Beck and I will cover for you for a while longer. But hurry back, okay?”
“I’ll try, William, I really will. But I have to do this thing first and I don’t know how long that might take. Do what you have to do.”
“Alright, Rose. I’ll take of the place for you. Thank you for trusting me.”
“No… thank you William. I’ll call again when I can.”
“Take care, Rose. I hope you get whatever happened straightened out.”
“Thank you William. I do too. Goodbye.”
***
“Rose will no longer be working here,” Melina says later that evening to the staff at The Green Goose, the restaurant that she and her late husband, Tim, own. Tim and Melina had purchased the restaurant from Rose’s parents not quite a year ago, only for Tim to be gunned down in the parking lot by the Matos Cartel two weeks prior as the cartel began to try muscling the Nines out.
“What?” Jack, the cook, asks in surprise.
“Something has come up, Jack, and I have to leave,” Rose says. “Both of us do. That’s why we’re both here.”
“Dick, I’m sorry to dump all this on you so suddenly, but it can’t be helped,” Melina continues as Rose hands him the keys to the Goose. “Rose told me that you will need to hire another manager… so do it. The Goose is yours to run as you see fit until one or the other of us returns.”
Dick looks shell shocked. He was at home, enjoying dinner with his wife, when the call from Melina came, telling him to report to the Goose as soon as possible. “What’s happened?” he asks.
“I can’t say. But something has come up that I need Rose’s help to handle. She can’t do what she needs to do and still work here. I’m sorry. I really am. But it can’t be helped.”
Dick and Roger, one of the other managers, look at one another. “It’s not something we did, is it?” Roger asks.
“No… it has been great working here,” Rose says. “I was planning on leaving in a couple of weeks anyway. I’m just moving that up.”
“Okay. But…”
“Dick…” Rose interrupts. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. You’ll be fine. Just get some more help in here. Melina trusts you. I trust you. The Goose is in good hands. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“You’re leaving? Where are you going?”
“We’re not leaving. You may see us around. But we won’t be back to the Goose, not for a while. It’s complicated. If you see us out, don’t talk to us. Don’t even acknowledge you know us. I know that sounds weird, but trust me, it’s best this way,” Melina explains.
Everyone stands dumbfounded by the strange actions of Rose and Melina. “Okay. But you’ll stop in when you can?”
“Count on it,” Rose says, hugging everyone in turn. “Melina and I have to go. And you have customers. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
Melina also gives everyone a hug. “I want you to know how much I am going to miss you guys. You’re like family,” she says, struggling not to cry before turning and walking quickly away.
Rose swallows hard, her own eyes becoming wet with tears. “Be safe, okay?” she says, before turning away and following Melina out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“How are you doing?” Rose asks as she slips into bed with Joseph. As much as she would like to snuggle up, she is not touching him in deference to his pain.
“I hurt, Rose. I hurt a lot.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m glad.”
“What?” Joseph asks, choking off a chuckle with a gasp. “Shit, that hurts.”
“I’m glad you’re alive to be hurting. I have never been so scared in my life as I was when I thought you were dead. Why didn’t you tell me you were wearing a bulletproof vest?” In hindsight she should have guessed. When he stepped out of their bedroom this morning she had noticed how tight his shirt and Nine Devils jack was, but she didn’t make the connection.
“I didn’t want to worry you. Of course, if I had known that someone was actually going to take a shot at me, I would have. Well, actually, if I had known that I wouldn’t have been wearing it… you would have been.”
“Do all of you guys have them?”
“No. Only a few of us. Those that meet with the cartel. They’re bulky, hot, and uncomfortable. You don’t want to wear it all the time.”
“So why were you wearing yours?”
“I knew was going to be out in the open a lot today. I didn’t think the cartel would move this quickly, but I’m a prime target, and why take chances? But now we know for sure they are coming for us. As soon as they realize their shooter isn’t coming back, they will probably hit us. This was probably their attempt to cut off the head of the snake first.”
“I want to help. I want to do what Mark does.”
“Rose…”
“Joseph, I mean it. You are going to need all the help you can get. I want to do something to help.”
“Why don’t you take charge of the meals?”
“What? A woman’s place is in the kitchen? Is that what you mean?”
“No! You know better than that! But you own and manage a restaurant. You know how to feel a lot of people. We need someone like that.”
“I’ll help with that. But I want to do more. Let me at least try. If I can’t do it, then okay, I will find something else. But Joseph, I want this. I want to do something to help protect you.”
“You realize that Touch—Mark—has had years of specialized training?”
“Yes. Is he your only sniper?”
“No. He’s trained others.”
“Then let him try to train me. Please, Joseph, this is important to me.”
“Okay. I’ll see what he says. But the ultimate decision is his, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.” Rose is quiet for a long time. “I love you, Joseph. Never more than right now. I thought I had lost you today. I…” she begins, but stops as she is racked with sobs.
Joseph grits his teeth as he rolls into his side, gathering her into his arms. “Shhh… Rose… shhh. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Rose can’t control her tears. She has held it together all day, doing what had to be done, but now, alone with Joseph, the dam breaks and all the stress and fear come out. “I was so afraid,” she weeps. “I was so afraid that you were dead. I don’t know how Melina survived.”
“She had you,” he whispers, holding her loosely.
Gradually her tears subside. “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh… it’s okay. You have been so strong for everyone else. It’s okay to let it go now and then. Especially with me.”
Rose sniffs. “I wish you weren’t so sore.”
“Me too. I would like to try for another one like last night.”
She smiles as she remembers last night, how he had made love to her until she was all but incoherent with pleasure. “Yeah… me too. Want to try?” she teases.
Joseph barks out a single laugh, quickly cut off with a gasp. “For someone that was just saying how afraid she was of me dying, you show an amazing disregard for my well-being.”
Rose giggles and then sniffs again. “I just want you to hurry up and get better. We haven’t been able to make love two nights in a row yet. Something is always getting in the way.”
“Well I’m sorry if my getting shot is ruining your plans,” he teases, keeping his tone light and playful.
“Don’t tease about that,�
�� she says seriously. “It’s not funny.”
“No. No it’s not. But that which does not kill me, makes me stronger.”
“But sore,” Rose adds softly.
“Now who’s teasing?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“Sure. We can give it a try,” Touch says the next morning after Joseph asks him about training Rose. “The more weapons we have out there, the better. You ever shot a gun before?”
“Never,” Rose says.
“Actually, that’s good. I won’t have to break you of any bad habits.” He looks at her for a moment, obviously sizing her up. “I’m thinking a .223 because it won’t have that much kick. Yeah, I know just the thing. Wait here a minute.”
“That was easy,” she says with a smile when Touch leaves.
“Before you get too excited about this, see if you can actually hit anything. Not everyone can.”
Touch returns in a moment with a rifle fitted with a scope. “This is the Remington Model 700 Long Range.” he begins, slapping the bolt up and yanking it back. “Bolt action with a 3½ pound trigger pull, this rifle will…”
Rose takes it all in, listening carefully as Touch explains the weapon and shows her the proper way to hold it. “You ready to go out and kill some stuff?”
“Yes,” Rose says, handing the gun back to Touch.
“Uh-uh. You shoot, you carry,” he says holding his hands up. “You coming?” he asks Joseph. “You look like you are about to fall down.”
Joseph has been standing with a slumped shoulder stoop, but he pulls himself upright, his face twisting in pain. “I’m coming. I want to see how she does… so I will know whether to be afraid of her or not.”
Touch chuckles as he picks up the three small plastic bags of a white power he brought with the rifle. “Come on then. Let’s see if she’s got what it takes.”
They follow Touch into the woods beside the clubhouse where trees have been cleared leading to a large hill. He walks to the first post and hangs the three bags, one under the other, on nails, then walks back. “That’s fifty yards. Sit down at the bench and get comfortable.” As Rose settles he reaches into a container and pulls out a handful of ear plugs that he hands around. “Like I showed you. Top bag… in your own time.”
Rose settles, peers through the scope, and pulls the trigger. Other than the pop of the gun, nothing happens.
“Remember what I said about jerking the trigger? Squeeze, don’t yank. Try again.”
Rose shifts her weight a bit, holds her breath, and squeezes the trigger. The white bag disappears in a puff.
Touch nods approvingly. “Not bad. But was it luck? See if you can do it again.”
She works the bolt, peers through the scope, and another bag of flour disappears. She sits up, works the bolt once more, leans back in, and the third bag meets the same fate as its companions.
She pulls the bolt up and back, leaving the chamber open as Touch had showed her, then looks at him.
“You should be afraid of her,” he says dryly while looking at Joseph, causing her to beam. “I think you need a bigger challenge. Wait here.”
“I like this. It’s fun,” she says as Touch walks away.
“Big difference between shooting at a bag of flour and a man.”
“I know. But if they are shooting at you, or anyone else, I won’t have a problem killing the bastards. Why aren’t the cops showing up?”
“We are out in the county. Not illegal to shoot guns out here. And we do it enough that nobody notices anymore.”
“Ahh… you have this all thought out, don’t you?”
Joseph smiles. “We try.”
“Okay. Reload. I’m going downrange. Let’s see what you can do,” Touch says as he walks up with six more bags and a pair of binoculars.
While Rose reloads, Touch walks down the range, placing a single bag on each of the six farthest posts. “Okay, that’s all the way out to three-hundred fifty yards,” he says as he returns. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Rose settles and the first three bags disappear. Three shots, three kills. “Low,” Touch monotones on the fourth bag, watching through the binoculars. She reloads, then another shot and the bag explodes in a puff of white.
“Low and right,” Touch says on the bag at 300 yards. “Still low.” But the last shot sees the bag off.
“At these ranges you are going to have to start accounting for wind and drop. But you’re doing great,” Touch says as Rose reloads. “You’re a natural.”
Rose settles in, puts the crosshairs up and to the left. She squeezes the trigger… and the bag drops straight down. “Shit. You hit the nail,” Touch says.
“That’s what I was aiming at,” Rose says with a straight face, then bursts into giggles.
“Can you use her?” Joseph asks.
“Hell yeah! Give her a little practice and she will be a regular Annie Oakley.”
Joseph thinks about putting Rose in harm’s way… but then decides that it would be a disservice, both to Rose and the rest of the Nines, not to allow her to contribute. “Get her ready,” he says before turning and walking away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Rose spends the rest of the day plinking away targets with Touch. By the end of the day, he declares the .223 her weapon of choice. He had tried her on other weapons, but she couldn’t stop flinching from the recoil with the larger calibers, and, as Touch so quaintly put, she “can’t hit the ground” with a handgun.
Joseph had stopped by in middle of the afternoon and watched her cut the center out of a target at one-hundred yards, snickering in delight as she efficiently went about the business of raining destruction on the paper target.
She stops late in the afternoon to take charge of the evening meal. She and Joseph had arrived early in the morning but there has been a steady influx of Nines all day. With help from Melina and a few others, she throws together a meal of spaghetti using a series of camp stoves, scaling up Joseph’s sauce recipe that she remembered to bring with her.
During the meal word spreads of Rose’s prowess with the .223 and several want to see for themselves. Cleanup is quick and easy since everyone is eating on disposable plates, and after some encouragement most of the Nines troop out the range to watch Rose shoot.
“Bullseye.” Touch calls, watching through the binoculars at the target on the 350 yard post. “Bullseye. Ten ring. Bullseye.” There is no cheering, but there is a murmur of appreciation rumbling through the gathered Nines. “Let’s try something a little harder,” Touch says as he sets the field glasses on the table and picks up another target. “Try that… free hand,” he says after returning from hanging the target.
Rose has only been shooting from the bench. She swallows hard, and gets to her feet. As she brings the weapon up Touch speaks to her.
“Hold up there a minutes. Turn a little more to your left, and spread your feet apart a little more. That’s right. Now, bring your front hand back and tuck your elbow in. Comfortable?”
“No.”
“Good. That means you’re doing it right. Try that.”
The target is only 150 yards out, but she can’t get the crosshairs still. She pulls the weapon down. “I can’t.”
“Not so easy now, is it?” Touch says with a gentle smile.
“I can’t hold the gun still.”
“Just relax. You can do this. Use your arm as a brace. Here,” he says, wrapping the sling her arm. “That will help a little.”
Rose pulls the weapon back to her shoulder, the sling becoming tight against her arm. It does help, and the crosshairs settle on the target. “Eight ring. Nice shot,” Touch says. “Six ring. Uhhh… I think you missed the target that time. Relax, Rose. You got this.” Touch waits, binoculars on the target. “Bullseye! Fantastic!” She had actually split the line between the ten ring and the bullseye, but at 150 yard, freehand, that’s a fucking bullseye.
“That’s hard!”
“You bet your ass it’s hard,” Touch says with a
grin.
“Show her how an expert does it,” Joseph says quietly.
“No. I don’t…”
“Please, Mark,” Rose says, holding the gun out to him.
Touch hesitates, then takes the weapon and loads it. Rose has barely gotten the glasses to her eyes when Touch pops off four shots as fast as he can work the bolt, the weapon never leaving his shoulder. He’s done in less than six seconds and there is only one hole in the center of the target.
