Bit By Bit

Chapter 5: Target

I sighed and walked into Aaron's and my house. I eventually came to realize that this is also my house. I work several hours, before my uncle came home, to prepare dinner and clean all of the pots and pans that were required, making the plates and cups a lesser load for me.

On top of that, I'd get bored and deep-clean the kitchen area (which was slowly turning into my favorite spot), vacuum and dust every Saturday morning. Either way, it was becoming home. Then, after several hours of cleaning up dishes, I'd get a call from Spencer, and we'd talk for a while.

On weekends, it would switch from hanging out with Emily to hanging with JJ to hanging with Garcia to chilling with all at the same time. They were so sweet and amazing at taking care of me. Morgan would swing by after a case with a little souvenir from each place their cases were. They generally were shot glasses, though everyone knew I didn't drink.

But today...was different.

I dropped my stuff on the couch and began cooking dinner. I heard the door open and an, "Ashely? Are you home?"

I smiled and replied, "Yes, Uncle Aaron, in the kitchen!"

I heard his feet pat the floor as he made his way across the house. I heard him set some things down, and walk over to the fridge. "Was it a tough case this week?" I asked.

I heard him sigh and open a can of soda I always kept in the house. I turned towards him while the food was cooling enough so we could eat it. He looked a little tired, maybe jet-lagged by the flight back. He took a sip of his drink and said, "It was a bit tough, but we saved his next target, that's all I'm happy about."

I smiled and patted his shoulder. "Well, maybe a home-cooked dinner is what you should have to lift your spirits!"

He smiled and kissed my forehead. "Anything you make is perfect, Ashley."

I grinned and felt a buzzing in my pocket. I answered without looking at the I.D.

"Princess of Kitchen, speaking, how may you serve me?" I said while grabbing plates from the cabinet.

"What are you making, pretty lady?" A deep voice replied.

I laughed and said, "Nothing for you, Morgan, but I can drop off some left-over's tomorrow if you'd like."

Morgan made a slurping sound and said, "I'll be waiting, but I need to ask you something."

"Sure, what's up?"

"There's a girl named Ashely. Her birthday is tomorrow, and I want to get her a present. What should I get her?"

I thought and finally said, "Scarves, you can never go wrong with scarves. And get her a purple one, she probably doesn't have one if those."

"Well, don't you have an insight to a girl's mind?"

I laughed and said, "Well, don't you have an insight to a criminal's mind?"

He laughed and said, "See you tomorrow, Princess of Kitchen."

"See ya!"

I slid my phone into my pocket and took the plates of the special macaroni and cheese* to where my uncle sat. He glanced up and smiled. "This smells great."

After dinner, Aaron and I cleaned the dishes and put the food away. I did my homework as Uncle Aaron worked on his reports. He finished his before I did, and he went to bed. A few, hard-working hours later, I packed my thing and went to bed.

I trudged up the stairs and went to my room. I flicked on the light and saw something on my bed. I scrunched my eyebrows and walked closer. These weren't shot glasses that Morgan brought me after a case.

My eyes widened as I stepped closer.

It was a picture of Aaron and I this morning talking on the front porch. There were two holes in them of where our hearts would be. There, sitting next to it were two .223 bullet casings. Someone was targeting Uncle Aaron and I.

That's when I screamed.

Aaron ran into my room with a white T-shirt and plaid flannel pants. He looked angry yet scared at the same time when he saw the evidence. He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the room. He made a phone call as I sat on the downstairs couch, my head resting in my hands.

My hands were shaking and I could barely think. Aaron dealt with these things all the time, right? Why wasn't his calm demeanor genetical?! Here I was, sitting on my couch, worrying that Uncle Aaron and I were targets of murder!

That's when the thought dawned on me.

I was a target.