Shooter (Burnout)

by West, Dahlia

  “Uh huh. If you hurt yourself….”

  “I won’t. Promise! Thanks!” she called out. “See you guys tonight!”

  Chris glared at his friends. “If she hurts herself…”

  “Supervised!” Tex reminded him, taking a bite of a sandwich. “Oh, God these are good,” he nearly shouted. “We have to give her the blowtorch. These sandwiches are too good not to give her a blowtorch.”

  ********************

  The guys must have hustled through their showers double time because they invaded his house almost an hour earlier than they usually arrived. They organized themselves into a recon unit and headed over to Hayley’s place next door to check on the status of dinner. Hayley handed out casserole dishes, covered serving bowls, and a covered cake stand and led them back to Chris’s place where she made them wash up for dinner and set the table as she took the aluminum foil off the casserole dish. The men gathered around expectantly.

  “What is it?” Hawk asked, straining to see.

  Hayley peeled the cover off. “Mac and cheese.”

  Hawk frowned. “That’s it? I can make that at home.” Tex elbowed him.

  Hayley glared at him. “But do you make it with five kinds of cheese, plus fresh Alaskan king crab boiled in beer, and then bake it for an hour so it has a golden parmesan crust?”

  Hawk grinned. “You’re like a rock star, you know that, Slick?”

  Hayley made plates for everyone that included the Mac and Cheese plus garlic and bacon green beans. She’d made a ton of both. Doc tried to lift the lid of the cake stand to see what was inside, but Hayley slapped his hand and ordered him away. Chris ordered her out of the kitchen as well and set himself to getting beers for everyone so she could relax and enjoy the dinner she’d made. Hawk and Tex fought over the last bit of Mac and Cheese. Doc used the distraction to wolf down the remaining green beans.

  Everyone looked at Hayley expectantly. She grinned. “So you guys ready?”

  Chris set the blowtorch and the striker down on the island and saw Hayley’s eyes widen in fascination and a tiny bit of fear. “Maybe we should do whatever it is you’re gonna do outside,” he told her.

  She licked her lips nervously and nodded, still starting that the hardware. “Okay.” She picked up the cake stand and carried it to the deck, placing in on the wrought iron table. The guys filed out behind her. “Okay,” she repeated and grasped the handle on the top of the lid. “Ta da!” she said, pulling it up to reveal….what, Chris didn’t know. It looked like the world’s largest marshmallow all swirled into spikes all over it. It was a dome of marshmallow-y goodness.

  “You’re gonna toast a giant marshmallow?” Doc asked.

  “No!” Hayley said. “It’s Baked Alaska! ‘Cause we had crab. I was going for a theme.”

  “Ohhh!” said Tex and Hawk, discretely eyeing each other to see if the other had heard of such a thing. They shook their heads at each other. “Is there crab in it?” Hawk asked.

  Hayley scoffed at him. “Of course not. It’s….you never heard of Baked Alaska? I mean, I know it’s old fashioned, but I’d have thought you’d at least have heard of it before.” The men continued to shake their heads. “Well, prepare yourselves,” Hayley told them, “for awesomeness.” She picked up the torch and the striker, examining it. “Um, how do I….”

  Hawk reached over and tweaked the valve. “Point it at the…giant marshmallow first,” he advised.

  “Got it, no problem,” Hayley said and maneuvered the cylinder so the nozzle was aimed at the dessert.

  Chris jerked his head, indicating silently that Tex should join him. Tex moved over and leaned in. “Mission Accomplished,” he told his lieutenant. While Hayley and Chris were gathering things from her house, Tex was discretely sent to the garage to retrieve a fire extinguisher.

  Hayley lit the torch with the striker and let out a tiny shriek as the gas caught fire. Chris rubbed his face nervously.

  “It’s totally fine,” she announced, with fake bravado.

  “It’s totally fine,” Tex repeated, trying to reign in his laughter.

  Hayley brought the torch down to the white dome….and there was a soft whoosh as she set the fucking thing on fire!

  “Oh, shit,” Chris said, lunging forward.

  “Is that supposed to happen?” Doc asked, backing away from the flaming cake-thing.

  Hawk took the torch from Hayley and shut it off.

  “Wow,” said Hayley.

  “Tex?!” Chris shouted.

  “Um, under the bottom step,” Tex told him, staring at the blue flames.

  “What?” Hayley asked and turned to see Chris running down the steps. She saw him bend over and pull the fire extenguisher from underneath the wooden step. Hayley saw red and then she saw red. “No!” she shouted, sprinting toward him. She jumped off the top step and tackled him. Because he was bent over, he was an easy mark and they both tumbled to the ground. Chris dropped the cylinder and grabbed Hayley, twisting to get himself underneath her and cushion her fall. “It’s supposed to be like that!” she yelled.

  “Hayley it’s on fire!” Chris protested.

  “Because I sprayed it with rum!” she argued, kicking the fire extinguisher as Chris reached for it. “It’s supposed to catch on fire!”

  “Actually,” Tex spoke up, “it’s not on fire anymore. The rum must’ve burned itself out,” he guessed.

  Doc swiped his finger through the meringue and tasted it. “It’s all gooey and toasted,” he declared. “It’s delicious.”

  Hayley gasped and then turned the full force of her glare on Chris. “I can’t believe you!” she shouted.

  Chris’s mouth dropped open. “I- Slick- There was fire, and a blowtorch, and-”

  She stood up. “You made me miss the big finish!” She stomped off toward her own house.

  As Chris watched her go from his position on the ground, the guys began laughing. “I bet women say that to him all the time,” Hawk mused. Chris flipped him off and got to his feet. “With Slick around, you don’t even need cable anymore,” Hawk declared. “This is way more entertaining.”

  Chris knocked on Hayley’s sliding glass door and tried to arrange his features to look as apologetic as possible. Hayley came the door and glared at him, debating whether or not to open it. She finally did and he stepped inside her kitchen. “I come in peace,” he told her, setting the plate of dessert down on the island. “And I thought you might want some, considering how hard you worked on it and all.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I did,” she insisted. “I worked hard on it. All day. And then you ruined the ending.”

  “Honey, women with flamethrowers is not high on my list of things I’m comfortable with.”

  “I had everything under control.”

  “I was wrong and I’m sorry. Please accept my humble apologies. And this slice of cake. Which was really good by the way. I don’t know how you got ice cream on top of a cake underneath marshmallow topping that you set on fire, but it’s like magic. The guys loved it.”

  Slick continued to scowl at him. “I really am sorry,” he told her.

  She sighed. “Alright, fine. Go on.”

  “Just so I know? Are you gonna get over being mad at me before lunch on Sunday?”

  “Out!” Hayley yelled, pointing at the door.

  Chris slunk away in the night, already scheming about how to get back in Slick’s good graces before Sunday.

  ****************

  The next day, just before she had to leave to start the Friday night shift she’d been given at Maria’s, Hayley was doing dishes when there was a knock on the door. She checked the peephole and then opened it to see Chris holding a large stereo box. “Scoot your ass out of the way, Slick. This box is awkward to carry,” he demanded.

  Hayley stepped off to the side as he strode into the living room. “What are you doing? What’s that?”

  “I forgot the stereo,” he told her, setting it down on the couch. “Wh
en I re-did the paint and the carpet, I took everything out and stuck it in the garage and when I put everything back, I forgot the radio.”

  She frowned at the box. “It has tape on it.”

  He glanced back at her. “Huh?”

  “Tape,” she said, nodding at the box. “It’s taped.”

  Chris looked at the box. “Well, of course it has tape on it. I didn’t want anything like dust or spiders or whatnot to get into it,” he said in a slightly irritated tone. He took out a pocket knife and slit the tape on the top. He opened the flaps and lifted out the packing.

  “It’s in Styrofoam,” she pointed out, smiling.

  “Damn it, Slick. Yes. It’s in Styrofoam. That shit is not biodegradable and I happen to be very Eco-conscious, okay? So I just put it back in the box.”

  Hayley nodded. “Also so it wouldn’t get damaged. Sitting in your garage.”

  “Exactly,” he snapped. He picked up the stereo and walked into the kitchen. Hayley followed him and watched as he set the radio on the counter and leaned down underneath the cabinet to plug it in next to the coffee maker.

  “There’s tape on the stereo, too,” she pointed out.

  “What?”

  He looked as she pointed to the red manufacturer’s tape holding the CD door closed. He growled. “Slick, are you gonna bust my god damn balls every time I-” He didn’t finish his thought because she hugged him. An honest to God hug. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, breathing in her delicate scent.

  “Thank you,” she said into his chest.

  “Nothin’ to thank me for,” he insisted. “It was in the garage.” His hand fingered one of her silky locks of hair. “And I know how much you like music. Always dancing at the bar like you do.”

  “Don’t look at my butt.”

  “Yeah, I’m not gonna lie. That’s not a possibility, Slick.”

  ********************

  A week later, Hayley was sweeping the front porch when Chris came out for work. She smiled at him. “Got an extra for tonight,” he called to her from his driveway.

  “What?”

  “Convinced Jimmy to come to Poker Night tonight. We’re knocking off early to go get him and bring him down,” he told her, pleased as hell that he was finally making some progress with the sour bastard.

  Hayley nearly dropped the broom. “What? Why did you you tell me?!”

  He frowned. “I just did,” he pointed out.

  “I mean before now!” she shouted. Chris looked around to see if she’d woken any neighbors with her harpy-like shrieking.

  “I- look, Slick, it’s not a big deal. It’s-”

  “Not a big deal!” she protested. She tossed the broom against the door and marched down the stairs. “Shooter Sullivan, it’s a very big deal that your brother is coming to town. And you should have told me before now so I could plan something special. Now I’ve got to go to the store after work and I may not have enough time to get everything ready by the time you get back. In the future, I need more notice when your family comes to town!”

  Chris grinned and half saluted her. “Yes, Ma’am.” Then his face softened. “Hayley do you need any money for this extravaganza you’re planning?” he asked, already reaching for his wallet.

  Hayley shook her head and waved him off. “No. No, no, no. I’ll be fine. You just remember that I need advanced notice for special occaisions,” she admonished.

  “Will do,” he promised.

  Hayley was half-distracted at work all day, quizzing Maria and Milo on the ins and outs of New Orleans. She’d never been there personally. Maria admitted she’d been there once for Mardi Gras 15 years ago, but all she remembered of the trip was a whiskey drink called Sazerac and a hot jazz player and somehow ending up with about three dozen strings of beads. Hayley didn’t comment. She clocked out half an hour early with Maria’s permission and practically ran to the grocery store.

  At a little after 7, the sound of the Hummer pulling into Chris’ driveway brought Hayley out of the kitchen and peeking out the blinds for a glimpse of Easy Turnbull. He appeared shorter than Chris, but not by much. He did have a bit of a limp, she was sorry to notice, and made a mental note to ignore it. She packed everything up in bags and headed out the front door.

  “Hi!” she called out, not really able to wave to Jimmy with her arms full.

  He looked taken aback at her. And mumbled something she didn’t really hear. Hawk and Tex took some of the bags from her and she continued on toward Chris’ front porch.

  “Hi, I’m Hayley!” she gushed.

  “Congratulations,” Easy grumbled. Well, she’d understood that, at least.

  “I cook dinner. On Poker Night. It’s a thing. Anyway, I heard you were coming and I made you all kinds of things.”

  In the kitchen, she set about arranging dishes on the island counter.

  “It’s shrimp and grits,” she announced, uncovering a large dish. “And beignets for dessert. ‘Cause you’re from New Orleans. And I thought you might be missing home a little.”

  Easy looked over the spread and grunted. After a few moments of silence, he shook his head, flung open the back door, and walked out. Chris, pissed off at the younger man’s rudeness, started to follow him but Hayley stopped him.

  “Just take this to the table,” she ordered, picking up the serving bowl of biscuits and pushing it at him. Hayley sent the rest of the men to the dining room with the food. She herself opened a cabinet next to the stove.

  Stepping onto the back deck, the night breeze was nice. She plunked down a bottle and two glasses, placing one of them in front of Easy. He glared at the bottle, then at her.

  “I’m from New Orleans, remember?” he snapped sarcastically.

  Hayley settled into the chair across from him. “Oh, they have a law there that says you can’t drink Kentucky bourbon?” She didn’t wait for answer as she poured them both a drink. She picked up hers and, reluctantly, Easy picked up his. She grimaced at the taste. Easy scowled but underneath it was a smirk.

  “Drink much?” he asked her.

  “Not even a little,” she admitted, and took another sip.

  He shook his head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “On the contrary,” she said, blowing out a breath at the sting of the alcohol. “I give up all the time.”

  Easy snorted. “So how do I get you to give up on me?”

  Hayley eyed him over her glass and shrugged. “If you give up on yourself, what does it even matter what I do?”

  Easy had no answer to that, so he just took another drink.

  When Easy was on his second glass, Hayley still her first, she said, “They’re real grits, you know. Not instant.”

  Easy considered this. “Haven’t had real grits in a long time,” he confided.

  “They take a whole 25 minutes longer to cook than instant.”

  He smirked again. “A whole 25 minutes?”

  Hayley hiccuped. “Yep.”

  “Well, maybe I feel like grits,” he finally acquiesced. “Since you went to so much trouble.”

  “Good,” she said, standing up. She swayed a little and grabbed the back of the chair. “Come inside and I’ll get a plate for you.”

  “Maybe you ought to lie down,” Easy said as they stepped inside the kitchen.

  She waved him away. “I will later. I don’t think I’m making it home tonight.”

  “You live next door,” Easy pointed out.

  Hayley shrugged and spooned up some shrimp and grits.

  Chapter 14

  At the end of her shift on Monday, Hayley stretched out in her tub and closed her eyes. Chris hadn’t been home when she’d gotten off work and she was mulling over asking him over for the spaghetti and meatballs she’d made this afternoon. She dried off and was pulling a t-shirt over her head when she heard a sound like breaking glass coming faintly from Chris’ house. Frowing she looked out her bedroom window, but Chris’ window was dark and she couldn’t see anything.


  She threw on her shoes and peeked out the front window. His bike was in the driveway. No other cars. She grabbed her keys, locked her door, and cautiously made her way to Chris’ front porch. She heard no other sounds coming from his house. She knocked, but there was no answer.

  Hayley twisted the knob and was surprised that the front door opened. She stepped inside and saw Chris stumbling toward the kitchen. She frowned and headed toward him. He pitched forward, grabbed the edge of the breakfast bar. She gasped and reached out for him. “Chris!” she said, grabbing his arm. He turned suddenly, his arm along with him, clocking her in the lip with his elbow. She fell backwards on to the floor and Chris landed in a heap next to her.