Gun Shy

by Ashley Bostock

  "Don't move!" She yelled again as one of the men inched closer to her. "I promise you all I am more skilled with a gun than your average girl. Do not move or I will shoot you."

  "Marilyn, put the gun down. There's nowhere to go. What are you going to do? Shoot all of us?" He sounded almost like he felt sorry for her and that really made her mad.

  "If I need to, yes. But the police are on their way so I'm hoping we don't need to resort to that before they get here. I doubt they would bring an ambulance with them so chances are you would bleed to death before you would be able to get help."

  In Blake's hazy state, he could hear everything being said. First of all, Marilyn owned a gun? Really? He liked it. Secondly, fuck, he never did call 911. His angel was going to be pissed when she realized there weren’t any police on the way. If he could just get focused enough to retrieve his phone, he could call 911 like he should have in the first place.

  "I went out with you for years. How could you do this? What happened to the guy I used to know?" She never wavered from her shooter’s stance, the only movement was her gun as she used her hands for emphasis while talking.

  Tyler shrugged his shoulders, "I owed people money. You would never understand. Why don't you put the gun down? Let's figure this out like normal people." His hands were out in a placating manner.

  Sirens? Were those actually sirens she was hearing? Thank God the police were coming!

  "After everything you have done to Blake and the brewery, I would be happy to shoot you. Make a single step toward me and I will lay one into you. You are going to rot in prison now. All of you. Hopefully, the police can find proof that you're bootlegging this stuff, too."

  Just then three squad cars came flying through the intersection, slamming on their brakes. Five deputies, including a man dressed in plain clothes jumped out of the vehicles, guns drawn.

  "Everybody freeze! Hands on your heads. Put your weapon down lady! Now!"

  Yikes! They all did as they were told. Marilyn setting down her weapon next to her feet. She rose slowly putting her hands atop her head.

  "That man needs medical attention!" she screamed. The man in plain clothes ran to Blake. She couldn't make out exactly what was being said between them with all the commotion going on. An officer came directly to her first and took her gun and immediately pushed the safety back on and stood between the gun and her.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Just as anyone might expect in this precarious situation, the officer asked Marilyn a gazillion questions. The other officers arrested Tyler and his band of brothers. There was an ambulance on the way for Blake, although according to the plain clothed officer - Jim, he was refusing medical attention, which was no surprise to Marilyn.

  Once Marilyn's concealed weapons permit was verified, the nice officer gave her her three-eighty back - unloaded, of course. She was able to retrieve her purse while the officers began taking pictures and dusting for prints. She didn't know, but apparently it was a cut and dry crime scene. Good thing! That was all they needed was for Tyler to get off scot-free.

  The truck was registered to a man and woman, Amanda and Andrew Fahler. He was one of the men that were arrested. It helped that the truck was partially loaded with the brew from Blake's truck. Marilyn gladly supplied all of the information about the conversation she overheard from Tyler at the brewery. She wished she had the foresight to have recorded him with her cell phone!

  According to Jim, it had all made sense now because Tyler's fingerprints were all over the lock and keys from the delivery truck’s back door and according to Blake, he was the only one that ever shut and locked the lock.

  Blake realized he had missed that tidbit of information when Jim had told him about all the sets of fingerprints he had found. When he told him he found Tyler’s prints, he assumed Jim meant all over the truck. Being since Tyler owned part of the brewery, as well as Blake trusting him, he never paid attention when Jim told him about Tyler’s prints. He never gave it a second thought.

  Now, Marilyn was sitting with Blake up against the hood of his Mercedes while the EMT's checked him out. He had kept up a pretty good fight considering it was four against one. Military training did come in handy when you least expected it. When she made a comment about it, he didn't feel that way. He felt like he got the shit beat out of him. The EMT's disagreed. They assured him that given the circumstances, he put up a pretty good fight. They'd come across people in worse conditions. They had insisted he go to the hospital to get his ribs taped. With Marilyn's insistence, he finally agreed, as long as he could drive there himself.

  Jim assured him that they would get the crime scene straightened out and his property back to Poudre Hops as soon as they reasonably could. He preferred it if they would keep the lines of communication open in case they had any more questions. Otherwise, they were free to go.

  With a small amount of arguing, Marilyn slid into the driver's seat of Blake's car. Boy, he was a stubborn man!

  "Ah, a girl could get used to a ride like this."

  She adjusted the rear view mirror, scooted up her seat and was good to go.

  "You can drive it anytime."

  He would do anything for her.

  "Really?"

  "Yeah, really. It’s only a car. Besides, you single-handedly saved my life; it's the least I could do."

  "I don't know about saving your life, it was teamwork. We make a good team." She glanced over at him. He was already watching her. He had a cut above his left eye and his lower lip was split. Even beat up, he was delicious-looking. How did she get so lucky to have this man want her?

  He reached for her hand, "We make a great team. Tell me, Marilyn, how long have you been a gun wielding bad-ass, sexy-as-sin, woman?"

  She laughed, "Surprised?"

  "Pretty much. Utterly grateful though. You're a pretty good shot."

  That was a nice compliment coming from a sharpshooter like himself.

  "I go to the shooting range regularly. It's fun and a girl never knows when she might need protection. My dad got me into it. Anyway, I always carry. But it's not something I go around telling everyone - it's concealed for a reason."

  He spread his hands out, and winced, "I totally get it. One of the many reasons I'm in love with you."

  He continued to track her with his gaze. Watching to see what her reaction was. Maybe she wasn't listening to him.

  Marilyn kept a steady gaze on the road. She was glad he understood why she never mentioned she owned a gun. And he loved her anyway. Wait. Did he just say that he was in love with her? She must be hearing things. She looked over at Blake who was still staring intently at her.

  Her voice wavered, "Did you just say you love me?" she might need to pull over. She would hate to wreck this fancy-schmancy hybrid he calls ‘just a car.’

  "Not exactly. I said I'm in love with you. Not exactly the same as saying I love you. Do you want to hear me say that?" He reached over and tucked her wild hair behind her ear.

  "I love you Marilyn Monroe Jacobs."

  It felt really good to get that out. He kept denying it, tucking it away, not listening to his heart and the minute he realized Marilyn was in a bad situation it was as if a light had suddenly turned on. He knew he loved her and frankly it wasn't as hard to accept once he admitted it. It felt good to tell her.

  They arrived at urgent care before Marilyn could respond. What could she say? She loved him too. That would be a start. She was afraid it would sound so...teenager-ish. I love you and are you going to say it? Oh I love you too. Her mind was reeling with this new information.

  While she was pretty much silent, Blake grumbled all the way to the receptionist desk. They explained what the EMT's had told them and the woman behind the desk kindly told them someone would call his name when it was his turn. Thankfully Urgent Care wasn't packed. They waited for a short time before his name was called.

  "I can wait here."

  "No, you're coming with me. You are going to be the one taking
care of me while I heal." He gave her that wicked grin she couldn't resist, “At least, I hope you will.” He held out his hand. Together they walked into the exam room.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Blake had three cracked ribs and had to get six stitches above his eye. That was the worst of it. He had major bruising along both sets of ribs, as well as his arms. He had plenty of various cuts as well, otherwise, he was in decent shape considering. The doctor set up a prescription for pain medication but Blake insisted he didn't need it. Nor was he going to fill it.

  They were in the car, heading to Blake's place when the reality of what Tyler had done, really sunk in.

  "I can't believe Tyler thought he was really going to get away with stealing from the brewery and still rake in money as an owner. What a dick."

  Marilyn giggled, "Yeah, what a dick. I never mentioned this before but that day he stopped into the bookstore, he threatened me. He actually terrified me. I had a feeling then that something wasn't quite right but I couldn't figure out what it was."

  "Why didn't you tell me this before?" If he knew, he would have confronted Tyler.

  "I knew it would be awkward working with him if you knew any of that and it's not like you could just quit working with him. I didn't want you to confront him and make it difficult at the brewery."

  She was so frustrating! She worried incessantly about everyone else, even when it put her own welfare at stake. At the same time, it made him proud that she was looking out for his well-being. No one ever did that for him except his military buddies.

  "Well, thank you, but going forward let's figure things out together. Deal?" he had his hand out. She laced her fingers in between his.

  "Deal."

  The entire evening at Blake's, Marilyn had to field calls from her parents, James, Amber, Brandi and every other person she knew that had her phone number. It was the same conversation over and over. Tyler? Why? How? Etcetera. Blake had his share of phone calls as well. Finally, around nine ‘o’clock they sat together, exhausted on his sofa.

  "Well, Angel, you made the news," he threw a pillow at her.

  Laughing, she threw it back, "Hey, so did you!"

  "Yeah, but I'm just a boring guy. You're this amazingly beautiful woman in this, well, dirty, but smoking hot dress that came to my rescue because you're packin’ heat," he loved teasing her. His dimples were peeking out with his full fledged smile.

  She gave him a sassy smile.

  "It's about time I get out of this dirty thing, don't you think, Blake?" She stood up and reached behind her neck, untying the strings. She let the dress fall to the floor, showing Blake her lacy white panties.

  God, she killed him.

  "You were going to shoot a bunch of men and you weren't even wearing a bra?"

  "Come on, Blake," she gently straddled him on the couch, "A woman doesn't need undergarments to protect the ones she loves. Besides,” her eyes widened, “I threw panties on at the last minute." She shrugged her shoulders. She lifted his hands and placed them atop her bare breasts.

  "Do you think you can make love to me Blake? I need you desperately."

  She needed him desperately? She was his life-line. He needed her. She was what he had started to look forward to in the mornings when he woke up. Every time he received a text from her, it brought about feelings he had never felt for other women. She was his life-line, - what he desperately needed. Once again, she was oblivious to the feelings she created inside him.

  He laid her down onto the sofa and got above her. "You are what I desperately need, don't ever forget that okay? I tried telling myself I wasn't falling in love with you but the minute I knew you were in that truck, it’s like my heart was ripped out. I couldn't let anything happen to you. I love you. I've never told another woman that. Ever. I never thought I would find someone worthy of those words. But then you came along, like a ray of sunshine knocking me off my feet. Thank you for that by the way. I had no idea what I was missing."

  Marilyn could feel tears streaming down the sides of her face as she stared up into the glimmering eyes of the man she had fallen in love with.

  "I love you too Blake. I realized I loved you that day we had sex over the counter in my bookstore. I knew it then. I was afraid to say it. I didn't want to scare you off. But the way you always look at me, it was like seeing my own feelings reflected in your eyes and I thought, actually, I hoped, that you felt about me the way I do with you."

  He couldn't believe she was in love with him. He didn't feel worthy of her love. Someone as smart and successful, as beautiful as Marilyn. What could she possibly want from a simple guy like him?

  “You really love me?"

  "Oh come on, you're smart and successful. I love beer, I love the way you make me feel. I love how you look at me with flirty eyes. And like I told you that day at the salon, you are the most gorgeous guy I have ever seen in my entire life. Your dimples, your eyes, the way you walk, your laugh, your sinful body." Was he really that dense?

  At this point, Blake's ribs hurt, but he couldn't take having a hard-on much longer.

  "Let me make love to you," he rose above her and began doing all the things he knew she loved best.

  A month or so later...

  After all of the news died down about the brewery, Marilyn decided she was going to transfer her accounts over to the local credit union. Her current bank was far more interested in the business they could garner up from her involvement with the brewery than they were with her as a customer. She had told Blake about it and he suggested, again, that she go to the credit union he had worked for and open her accounts there. It was a win-win for everyone, he insisted. The president, Gage Alexander, was the previous owner of the brewery and Blake knew him pretty well. He and Blake had gone into the brewery business together. He told Marilyn he would call him and set up a time for her to go meet with him and she could hear firsthand about the financial services the credit union offered.

  Today she was going in to meet him and switch her accounts. Amber came with her because afterwards they were heading over to the shooting range and instead of back-tracking, this made sense.

  "Hopefully this won't take too long," Marilyn told Amber.

  "I doubt it will." She stopped at the water fountain and took a sip.

  Marilyn went to the teller line explaining she had a meeting with Mr. Alexander.

  "I will take you to his office. He is expecting you." She motioned for Amber to join her.

  The teller led the ladies down the hall and to his office, "Mr. Alexander will be here in just a moment."

  His office was a nice size. The furniture was a honey oak color. He had the standard desk with a computer, telephone – all of the standard office necessities. In front of his desk, there were two wooden chairs. Marilyn took the seat farthest from the doorway, while Amber sat in the chair closest to it. They did all the little things women do while waiting: checked their phones, their hair, put on lipstick, popped a piece of gum in their mouths.

  "Maybe he's single and Blake can set you up with him. I haven’t met him yet, so I don’t know what he looks like," Marilyn whispered.

  "Yeah, well he better be hot and be well-endowed before I agree to something like that," Amber giggled back.

  "Sorry I'm late. It sounds like you ladies are making yourselves comfortable. Can I get you something to drink before we begin? I have coffee, tea, water, pop."

  Amber would have recognized that voice anywhere. She knew it was him before she even saw him. She could feel it was him by the tension he brought into the room bringing her body back to that night all those years ago. He really was here in Windsor? When she saw him at Agave, she wondered if he was here on business. But never, did she even think about him living here, or near here! Let alone working in Windsor at the local credit union!

  "No we’re fine. Thank you, though," I think, she mouthed to Amber. Marilyn looked quizzically at her friend but she couldn't speak. Gage Alexander made his way to his chair behind the d
esk, yet to see either of his clients.

  He turned and extended his hand, "How you are? I'm Gage Alexander, CEO of Colorado Financial Federal Credit Union. You must be Marilyn Jacobs; Blake has told me a great deal about you."

  It wasn't until he spoke to Marilyn, that he saw Amber and recognition crossed his face. He looked exactly the same as he had all those years ago. His hair was still dark as the night but now held small sprinklings of grey. His face showed no signs of aging. Maybe maturity, but still mysteriously sexy.

  Amber's palms were already damp from thinking about having to shake his hand. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought she might pass-out from lack of oxygen.

  He would recognize her anywhere. In a big city, or in a small town, and here she was in the same town he worked and lived. Not too many things surprised Gage Alexander, but this did. He didn't like surprises. He held out his hand for Marilyn’s friend, "I am Gage Alexander. And you are?" His eyebrows rose as he introduced himself again.

  She struggled to get any words to form. She stuck her limp hand out to shake his, "Uh, Amber, I’m Amber Prescott. Hi."

  Hi? That was all she could think of to say? She wished she could crawl out of his office right this minute.

  How had this charming, handsomely devilish man, who called himself Gage Alexander, CEO, whom she had anonymous sex with eight years ago inside a private sex club wind up here in Windsor, Colorado? That, Amber decided, was something she was going to have to find out.

  About the Author

  Ashley Bostock was born and raised in Colorado where she currently resides with her husband, two children, her dog and two cats. She loves reading, writing, and music and is always trying to find more time in the day to incorporate all three. Seeking an outlet and pursuing her life-long passion for writing, she began composing her first novel in late 2013. She has traveled all over the world, but still has an extensive list of places she would love to visit. Anywhere near a sky-blue ocean will always be at the top of that list. She carries a Bachelor’s Degree in History with a concentration in Elementary Education from Metropolitan State College of Denver. While she loves children, she now fears teaching, which probably has something to do with being a stay-at-home mom.