The Hit

Chapter Fourteen

 I woke early the next morning. I looked at Alissa, lying peacefully in the bed furthest from the bedroom door. I had offered to give her the room to herself, she insisted that it wasn't necessary. It could have been the alcohol but the fact she trusted me, even a little bit, was comforting.

 I quietly made my way to the patio, it had been three days since I had smoked a cigarette. Fifteen or so minutes later I was lighting my fourth, watching a cat chase butterflies at the edge of the woods about fifty yards away. I thought about how nice it would be to be as carefree as the cat was. I hadn't felt normal in well over a week and my mind wouldn't stop racing. I let the cat distract me the way it was distracted by the butterflies fluttering around it. 

 My concentration on the cat that was now climbing up and down trees was broken by the sound of the door opening. I turned to see Alissa emerging from the cabin.

 "You smoke?" she inquired.

 "It helps distract me when I'm stressed."

 "You must be really stressed" she said, looking at the pile of five butts I had crushed under my foot. She reached over and took the cigarette from me, taking a long, deep drag off of it. "I smoke when I party. My friend Zoe always bought extra when we went out. She knew I would want some, she never asked me to get my own or replace them."

 "Sounds like a good friend" I said.

 "She is... was." Sadness filled her eyes. The reminder that her life would likely never be the same pulling her emotions to the surface.

 I pulled out another cigarette, relinquishing control of the one she had hijacked. We stood there mostly in silence. Alissa had caught sight of the cat, now curled up in the crook of a tree.

 An hour later a car was coming up the drive to the cabin. I assumed it was Reginald's employee, but I wasn't taking chances. I pulled my pistol from my waist band, noticing Alissa was a step ahead of me. I motioned for her to step back.

 "Point and shoot" she said, standing her ground. I admired it.

 "He's alone, I don't think you'll have to."

 The man confidently pulled up to within a foot of the patio, either not noticing, or not caring, that we were both ready to gun him down. He got out of the car, eyeing the pistols as he did so.

 "Calm down, Reginald sent me. I've got some supplies. Food, clothes, a cell phone."

 "A cell phone?" I asked.

 "So you can contact me or Reginald if you need to. Don't worry, it's secure."

 I wasn't confident but it made sense to have some kind of connection to the only person helping us. We helped him carry in the supplies and had a short conversation about what else we would need. Ammunition was my only real request. I had promised Alissa I would teach her to shoot, a fact I was reminded of earlier. Alissa requested cat food. She was planning on turning the cat into a pet. 

 Alissa cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast while I put the rest of the supplies away. After breakfast I taught her how to disassemble, clean and reassemble her pistol. She really just wanted to learn to shoot it, her disappointment was plainly evident when I insisted she learned to maintain the weapon first.

 Reginald's employee returned around noon with the requested items. Alissa insisted he stay for a sandwich. I would have preferred he hadn't but there was no way he was going to turn her down. I sat silently while he and Alissa talked about movies and t.v. shows. When he left I set up some targets for Alissa to practice shooting.

 I stood behind Alissa, adjusting her stance and explaining how she needed to line the targets up with the sights on her pistol. She was concentrating on the task at hand. I was concentrating on her. I used every excuse I could to place my hands on her hips or arms. I soaked in every moment. Thinking more of how I hoped she would eventually reciprocate the desire for physical contact than worrying about teaching her to shoot.

 "Okay, now squeeze the trigger. Just like I explained before." She missed her first shot. I leaned in again, making minor adjustments to her stance. "Focus on the target." She squeezed the trigger again, striking a tin can just left of center. "Next target." She took her time, her eyes completely focused on the line of cans. Another can down, then another. She missed only one more shot. Each can falling slightly quicker than the one before it.

 "It's not so hard" she said as she turned around, a smile spread wide across her face. "Can we keep shooting?"

 "You have to help set up the targets."

 "We need more, I have fifteen bullets!"

 She practiced for another two hours. She didn't need my help after the first few minutes, It would be a lie for me to say it didn't disappoint me a little.

 After she had expended a couple hundred rounds of ammunition we went inside where she immediately sat down at the table and cleaned the pistol.

 "Aren't you glad I taught you that part first?"

 She chuckled. "No. But now I know I don't need your help, so I can kill you whenever I want." I sincerely hoped she was joking, but I honestly couldn't say for sure.

 That evening she poured herself a rather large drink and headed to the patio. I took a shower and joined her about thirty minutes later. I was surprised to see the cat sitting in her lap purring contently. I shouldn't have been. She had a magnetic personality. Even a creature as timid as a cat seemed drawn to her.

 The following two days went more or less the same. The major difference being shooting practice had turned into a competition. She couldn't outshoot me yet, but she was getting there. The cat would come back around after things quieted down and plant itself in her lap each night. The only time it moved was when I would try to give it a pet on the head. The cat would hiss and pull away. She is good judge of character. I thought.