Chapter 11
Ladies- if your men don’t know how to fire a weapon, you have a girlfriend.
-Earl Dibbles, Jr.
Shiloh
“Where’re we going?” James asked again, for the fifth time.
“You’ll see.” I said cryptically.
We were on the ‘date’ that I’d promised, and I wanted to see him in his element, and the only way I could think of doing that was taking him somewhere I knew he would love.
When we’d gotten home from Louisiana, I’d decided to sleep over at James’ place since it was so late, and I would’ve been over early for our ‘date’ in the morning anyway. As I was coming outside this morning, I ran into Sam. He’d apologized, for the seventeenth time, and I took pity on him by trying to make conversation.
I’d asked Sam about the girls, and eventually it’d turned into what James loved doing, and that was how James and I ended up going to the shooting range.
Of course, him having the Y chromosome automatically made him have to drive. So I’d given him directions on how to get where we were going. Once we’d gotten on the last road, his demeanor had changed, and he knew exactly where we were going before we pulled up to the gates.
“Sam told me you’d have a code to get in.” I explained when he just looked at me.
“Yeah, I do.” He agreed.
Lifting his right butt cheek, he fished out his wallet from his back pocket, dug through it, and the produced a card that had National Rifle Association Member on it. Once he had it swiped and the gate swung open, he pulled his Bronco in through the gates and waited for it to close behind him before starting down the long drive.
“Where are we going, exactly?” He asked carefully.
“Well, I have two reasons for coming here. One,” I said holding up a finger. “Is that I want to practice with my .38. I have a concealed handgun class next weekend, and I don’t want to make a fool of myself. The other, is that Sam said you’d enjoy coming here. He even sent me with a rifle.”
His eyes shifted to take in the backseat, but looked at me in confusion when he didn’t see anything.
“I had Cheyenne hide it in the back for me. I didn’t want you to tell me no.” I said cheekily.
“I would’ve never told you no. It’s just that...” He started to say before trailing off.
“What?” I asked confused at the emotion I saw in his eyes.
“I had a friend who died while on a mission with me. He was my spotter. Ever since his death, well, let’s just say I haven’t found incentive to get out here.” He said gruffly.
Sam had told me that might be the case, and I didn’t tell him that I had his rifle in the back of the truck. Sam had been holding it ever since his mission failed, and Dougie had died. I’d also gotten the story on Dougie, and I was truly heartbroken to hear of it.
According to Sam, Dougie was James’ spotter. While on a fact-finding mission, they’d been made, and when they were going to the extraction point, Dougie and James had both been hurt. Only Dougie had died, while James had lived. Sam said that ever since, James hasn’t been acting the same.
I wasn’t sure if James would shoot his rifle, but I figured I would let the option be available if he decided to face his fear.
“When was the last time you shot your rifle?” I asked curiously, as he came to a stop outside the handgun range.
I hopped out and went to the back of the truck, waiting patiently for him to take in his surroundings, and then finally open the back hatch with his key.
“A few years.” He hesitated. “Four to be exact.”
Four years ago was when Dougie had died. And that broke my heart a little bit.
“Well, don’t laugh at my target shooting skills.” I said lightly, very aware that his mood was taking him down a dark path that I very much didn’t want him down.
“I’ll help you, honey.” He laughed lightly.
Five boxes of ammo, and a thirty-minute search of the immediate surrounding area for the copper casings later, James and I were standing beside his truck staring at the rifle range.
“We don’t have to do this.” I explained hesitantly.
“It’s okay, I’ve put this off long enough.”
With that bold statement, he grabbed the case to his rifle and walked up to the area where he could set up his rifle. He did so with swift adept movements. First came removing the rifle from the case. Then he checked the chamber, the safety, the scopes mount, and finally set up the bipod to where the rifle rested on the table.
Ejecting the magazine, he loaded the shells that Sam had handed me earlier with a hopeful smile, and replaced the magazine into the bottom of the gun. Gesturing to his earphones with his eyes, I reached forward and placed his pair he’d produced from under the seat in his truck over my ears, and stepped back to sit on the concrete bench that was directly behind him.
Since no one was in the rifle target area, he didn’t have to tell anyone that he was walking down range. Using a fancy handheld device, he took his staple gun and a target, and walked downrange. It took him what seemed like forever to walk, and walk until he was at his desired distance.
Once there, he pinned the target to the metal wire that was hanging across the range, and then walked back to me, licking his finger, and holding it in the air as he came back towards me. Seeing that he was in his zone, I stayed quiet, not asking the questions that were barely being held in, practically burning a hole to escape the confines of my mouth.
He took his time setting up, reading the handheld device, and then producing a pen and post-it from his pants. He wrote something down, looked at his scope, and adjusted it in some way that I couldn’t really see from my vantage point.
I was utterly flabbergasted by all that went into the process. The man was stunning when he was in his element.
Today, he was wearing dark washed jeans, brown mud-caked boots, and a fitted gray t-shirt that hugged his muscled torso to perfection. He had on a pair of blue Oakley’s that covered his expressive hazel eyes, and his beard, that just yesterday resembled a five o’clock shadow, now covered the lower half of his face with a scruffiness that only added to his sexiness.
Now, with his cheek snug against the stock of the rifle, his eye close to the scope, and his muscled shoulder cradling the butt of the massive gun expertly, I was sure I’d never seen anything sexier in this world. The man was the picture perfect example of a man.
His hand flicked up in a gesture of ready, and I held my breath, waiting for him to finally break through the barrier that he’d put up four long years ago.
Crack.
The sound of the rifle shot echoed through the tall Pine trees, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“That’s some damn fine shooting there, son.”
My heart leapt in my chest, and I turned sharply to find my father standing behind us. Although muffled, James’ curse didn’t escape my awareness.
“Hi, daddy.” I smiled.
***
James
“Mr. Mackenzie.” I nodded my head warily after switching the safety on my M21.
Silas Mackenzie was an intimidating figure. He was wearing jeans that had holes in the knees, a black t-shirt, and a flannel shirt that was hanging open. A small amount of leather peeked out every time the wind gusted. Which made me notice that he was covering the leather cut that was probably exactly the same as his sons had been last night.
I could make out a shoulder rig over his big burly shoulders as well, most likely hiding the same hand cannon I’d seen him sporting the last time I’d seen him. His hair was buzzed close to his scalp, but it did nothing to hide the silver lines of his hair. His beard was cropped close to his jaw, giving him a rugged appearance.
His arms were crossed closely across his chest, and he was looking at Shiloh with no short amount of love in his eyes. That look changed once his eyes turned from her to me at my greeting.
“I see you finally got back out here, boy. It’s good to know you haven’t lost the touch.” He said, nodding towards the range.
How he knew that I’d gotten a good shot, I didn’t know. From my naked eye, I could barely make out the bullet hole that ripped through the middle of the target. Directly in the center of the 0 at center mass. I could most certainly tell when I had my eye at the scope, but he didn’t have anything but his eyes. Although they were cold and calculating.
“Yeah,” I answered when I could think of nothing else to say.
“May I speak to you in private for a moment, James?” Silas asked.
I nodded in affirmation, and Silas’ sharp gaze turned pointedly in Shiloh’s direction.
“What, you want me to leave?” She asked in mock outrage.
“No, we’ll go.” Silas said with exasperation before turning to leave.
I gave Shiloh a raised eyebrow as I passed.
Once I’d passed her, I followed Silas in the direction of his bike that was parked at the end of the rifle-designated area.
“Hey, can I shoot your rifle?” Shiloh yelled towards my back.
“No!”
Both Silas and I yelled back in unison.
“That girl is curious, so we better make this quick or she’ll shoot it anyway.” Silas laughed.
I didn’t say anything, just waited for him to tell me what he needed.
After years of being friends with Sam, of hearing all the stories of how he’d suffered when he was younger, I didn’t know how to handle what I’d learned last night. Didn’t know how to proceed. Whether I should tell Sam what I’d learned. Whether I should tell Shiloh.
“Sebastian told me he informed you last night. I need to make sure you keep that shit quiet, or a lot more than just my life will be at stake.”
“I understand. Although, I’m not sure it’s conducive with having a life with your children.” I said carefully.
“You don’t think I don’t know that? Why do you think I’ve alienated myself from them? I’ve made sure that they’re not in my life for their safety, not mine. Do you think it doesn’t kill me? Fuck.” He hissed.
I winced at the despair I heard in his voice. “As an outsider to this, I can tell you that they’re grown adults, and they deserve to know.”
Silas’ fingers crossed and linked behind his head as he paced back and forth.
“They already hate me. There’s no reason to make it known to them. Them understanding the truth won’t change the fact that I ignored them their entire lives. Protected them, yes, but been there for them when they needed me? No. It’s too late.”
“It’s not too late for your grandchildren. Pru, Piper, and Phoebe are young. They don’t have a grandfather. They could really benefit from having one.” I explained.
“Yeah, I don’t think Sam is going let me get near them, even after he hears why I’ve done the things that I have.”
“He may not at first, but, eventually, he’ll understand. He may not like it, but he’ll know that at that moment in time, that he wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
“Maybe,” he hesitated. “I have one last assignment that I’m working on, and then we’ll see.”
“I’m not keeping anything from them if they ask. I won’t just outright tell them. However, when they ask, and I know that they will, I’ll tell them everything I know.” I said carefully.
He nodded in understanding, and swung his leg over his ride. Starting it up, he was about to put it into gear when Shiloh cried out for him to wait.
He turned off the engine, and turned just in time to catch Shiloh as she threw herself into Silas’ arms.
Silas’ muffled, “Oomph.” Made me want to smile, but I held it in check when I caught the look of adoration that crossed over Silas’ face.
“I love you, daddy.” Shiloh whispered to him before leaving back the way she came.
“She knows.” He said with a disgusted sigh.
“Yep.”
“Watch over her. She’s going to open a big ass can of fucking worms if she doesn’t keep her nose out of my business. I can’t afford the distraction right now.” He growled.
I looked at him pointedly, and he sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Just try your best.”
“Always.”
***
“When are you going to tell Sam?” She asked quietly.
“I’m not. Well, not yet. We’ll see if that changes in the future.” I sighed.
“Alright.” She agreed.
She agreed so nicely, that I knew Sam would know before the week was out. It just wasn’t sitting well with her. Her conscience wouldn’t let her keep this from him. Which I guess was for the best, because I was having doubts about telling him myself. Maybe it’d be better to come from his own sister, rather than his brother in law.
“Just wait till I’m not there to do it. I’d rather not have my ass kicked, if it’s all the same to you.” I said.
“Yes, sir.” She said, saluting me.
“What movie are we watching tonight?” I asked instead of confronting the sarcasm.
“Frozen.” She explained.
I grimaced. That was Janie’s favorite movie, and I watched it no less than twice a day.
“What if I don’t want to watch that?” I asked.
She laughed. “Well, I guess you’d have to take that up with your daughter. I promised her ice cream and Frozen yesterday if she’d give it a try at her mom’s. Since she did so well, I figure we owe it to her.”
Fuck. She was right. “Okay,” I relented. “There just better be beer.”
She snorted. “Yeah, well I’m gonna need something to drink, too. There’s only so many times I can tolerate it as well.”