The Secrets We Keep, chapter 3
I arrived at the doorstep of my new home with a truck load of boxes behind me. My hand had barely touched the door when it flew open to reveal my new roomie.
"Scarlett! I was so excited when Billie called to say you need a place to stay." He scooped me into a massive bear hug.
"Thanks Tré. I'm just glad I've got a place to stay. Billie decided to skip telling me Adie was moving in with him, instead of his best friend."
Tré shook his head. "Young love. It'll blind side you."
He glanced out the door at all my boxes. "So, shall we start unpacking?"
"Actually I thought we could just move them into my room. Then I need to blow off some steam... " I opened the nearest box and took out my Smith & Wesson, "do you know any good shooting ranges?"
Tré stared at it for a moment before he said, "Smith and Wesson?" and pulled out a gun from a drawer beside him.
"Luger 9mm?" I replied.
Our eyebrows raised and we started pulling the boxes in at top speed.
45 minutes later Tré and I stood in side by side boxes firing at our targets. At the end of the round he came into my box, his target sheet in hand. He looked at mine, eyebrows raised.
"Not bad. Not bad at all." He raised his sheet, bullet holes grouped around the center, "But there's always room for improvement."
I glared back at him. "And tell me, Mr. Cool, could you shoot that well after only a year of using a gun?"
He shook his head and laughed. "It was two months before I could even hit the sheet. A year and a half until I was decent, but then again I was unnaturally horrible at using a gun. You're telling me you've only been shooting for a year?"
"Just over. First time I used it was last August."
"That's actually amazing. It must run in you blood or something, marksmanship. Maybe you're a descendant of Robin Hood. That'd be so cool!" he was positively bouncing at the idea.
I snorted. "Fat chance. C'mon, let's get another round in before this place closes."
We left the shooting range at five and headed over to one of Tré's favorite bars for beer and pizza. Unfortunately we got caught up in the mob of clubbers that were appararently regulars at the place, so we didn't end up leaving until close to eleven.
It was only a short walk back to the apartment, but Tré insisted on taking the long way and showing me the neighbourhood.
"... and that's another bar I can't go to anymore. I think that's where I set the counter on fire. Or was it the - oops. Sorry... " Tré had bumped into a woman walking in the opposite direction. She had the hood of her jacket pulled down over her eyes, but she appeared to be looking at Tré. She turned around and pushed up against him.
He looked from the hooded woman to me with a quizzical look on his face before I saw his face drain of all colour and his look turn to fear.
"Alley. Now. You too missy." She nodded at me and marched Tré to a nearby alleyway. As she walked I caught the silver glint of a gun pressed into Tré's side by the gleam of a streetlight and hurried to follow, hand sliding to my own gun as I go.
"Scarlett! I was so excited when Billie called to say you need a place to stay." He scooped me into a massive bear hug.
"Thanks Tré. I'm just glad I've got a place to stay. Billie decided to skip telling me Adie was moving in with him, instead of his best friend."
Tré shook his head. "Young love. It'll blind side you."
He glanced out the door at all my boxes. "So, shall we start unpacking?"
"Actually I thought we could just move them into my room. Then I need to blow off some steam... " I opened the nearest box and took out my Smith & Wesson, "do you know any good shooting ranges?"
Tré stared at it for a moment before he said, "Smith and Wesson?" and pulled out a gun from a drawer beside him.
"Luger 9mm?" I replied.
Our eyebrows raised and we started pulling the boxes in at top speed.
45 minutes later Tré and I stood in side by side boxes firing at our targets. At the end of the round he came into my box, his target sheet in hand. He looked at mine, eyebrows raised.
"Not bad. Not bad at all." He raised his sheet, bullet holes grouped around the center, "But there's always room for improvement."
I glared back at him. "And tell me, Mr. Cool, could you shoot that well after only a year of using a gun?"
He shook his head and laughed. "It was two months before I could even hit the sheet. A year and a half until I was decent, but then again I was unnaturally horrible at using a gun. You're telling me you've only been shooting for a year?"
"Just over. First time I used it was last August."
"That's actually amazing. It must run in you blood or something, marksmanship. Maybe you're a descendant of Robin Hood. That'd be so cool!" he was positively bouncing at the idea.
I snorted. "Fat chance. C'mon, let's get another round in before this place closes."
We left the shooting range at five and headed over to one of Tré's favorite bars for beer and pizza. Unfortunately we got caught up in the mob of clubbers that were appararently regulars at the place, so we didn't end up leaving until close to eleven.
It was only a short walk back to the apartment, but Tré insisted on taking the long way and showing me the neighbourhood.
"... and that's another bar I can't go to anymore. I think that's where I set the counter on fire. Or was it the - oops. Sorry... " Tré had bumped into a woman walking in the opposite direction. She had the hood of her jacket pulled down over her eyes, but she appeared to be looking at Tré. She turned around and pushed up against him.
He looked from the hooded woman to me with a quizzical look on his face before I saw his face drain of all colour and his look turn to fear.
"Alley. Now. You too missy." She nodded at me and marched Tré to a nearby alleyway. As she walked I caught the silver glint of a gun pressed into Tré's side by the gleam of a streetlight and hurried to follow, hand sliding to my own gun as I go.
