Ray raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Kitty Basher? Uh…that’s a….unique name.” He knew better than to ask a woman such as herself if it was her real name. If it wasn’t it was the identity that she had decided on for herself and questioning it anymore would only piss her off and he did not think his body could handle that. The look she returned to him was one with no humor whatsoever. Her eyes bore into him with little patience behind them.
“So what the hell would make you think it was a good idea to follow the best shot you’ve ever seen to her car? Do I look like a woman who wants company?” She had already noticed the gun strapped to his side but as she gave him a full once over she also noticed the bulge at his boot line. “What ya packin down there,” she asked motioning to his boot.
Ray’s eyes went to his boot. “Just a small .22, nothing that will do too much damage but it’ll sting enough,” he chuckled.
Kitty’s patience was wearing thin. “So what is it you want Ray,” she asked her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Really I just wanted to see if you wanted to get a drink or coffee or something. If it helps any, I’m gay so you don’t have to worry about me hitting on you.” He kept as still as a rabbit cornered by a fox, afraid that any movement would set her off again.
“You’re gay,” she asked with surprise. Her body relaxed slightly. “I didn’t see that one comin,” she admitted. “It is almost noon so I guess a shot of whiskey wouldn’t hurt.”
They had spent the rest of the afternoon drinking and talking in the corner of a dark little bar. Much to Kitty’s pleasure Ray never asked any really personal questions. He was content to have her company and her knowledge of weapons, never once asking where this knowledge and skill had been acquired.
Late into the night, when they had had their fill of drink and talk Ray passed Kitty a cocktail napkin with his name and number written on it. The look she gave him caused him to throw his hands up defensively. “I barely survived just trying to talk to you, didn’t think I would live through askin for your number.” He lowered his hands at the small smile that crossed her lips. “Just call if ya ever wanna just hang out again. No strings.”
Kitty paid their tab, shook Ray’s hand and walked to her car, glancing one last time at Ray as he got in his car and waved bye.
It was a week later, as Kitty was packing up her guns to head over to the range when she found Ray’s napkin tucked into her bag. She really had enjoyed to talking to him and on a whim called and asked if he wanted to meet at the range and then head over for drinks again.
Over the next two years they had become as close as two people could get (without sexual interaction) and Kitty trusted Ray completely. A year into their friendship as they finished off a third bottle of Riesling, Kitty had confided in Ray what had happened to her as a child. The pain and humiliation she had suffered. They never spoke of it again. But Ray knew, on the nights that they were drinking heavily and she went quiet, her eyes staring at nothing, that she was playing out in her head what she would do to the man that gave her the scar if she ever found him.
It was almost two years to the day they had met when Ray came to her with a proposition.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Bubble Baths and Handguns....Part 2
She laid the pistol down on the toilet seat next to the tub and forced herself to climb out of the soothing bath. She had e-mails to check, guns to clean and she still had to eat at some point today.
Drying herself off in front of the mirror, she admired her tone physique. Not bad for a woman of 35. Her long red hair fell over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. She noticed that there were a few more wrinkles framing her gray eyes now than she remembered being there last year. As she turned, glancing over her shoulder at her backside she cringed at the sight of the scars that covered her back. There were more here than anywhere else on her body. Most were only an inch or two long but the one that ran diagonally across her back, from her left shoulder to just above her right ass cheek was the one that had made her who she was today. The bastard who had left that mark on her when she was only a child had been her second target. The first had been the one that her sponsor had contacted her for in the first place.
Her sponsor, a wealthy Phoenix business owner, had heard about her from Ray, a mutual friend. She had met Ray while at the gun range. He had sat and watched her practice for over an hour before he finally tried to talk to her. She had blown him off of course but he could not be discouraged. He showed up every time she was there and sat and watched her. She figured it was because of the low cut tops or the way her jeans hugged every inch of her. She didn't figure him for a stalker or psychopath. He was very well dressed in slacks and shirt and tie. It was only his hair that didn't fit. It was almost the same shade of brown as his eyes, but it was always a mess. Short but tousled and not in the cool way the young men wore it these days. His hair gave the impression that he had just climbed out of bed.
He followed her to her car one afternoon after watching her again. He called her name as she pulled her keys out. Instinct made her spin and swing, landing her fist squarely on his jaw and knocking him to the ground. As he fell she came to stand over him, looking him in the eye she planted her 3 inch heel directly over his crotch. "Mister you just don't know how to take no for an answer do ya," she asked rhetorically adding pressure to her foot.
He looked down at her foot trying to sink his body into the concrete below him. "I just wanted to say hi and tell you that you are by far the best shot I have ever seen here, woman or man."
She added a tad more pressure, twisting her foot sideways. "Sounds like a come on line to me," Kitty sneered.
Ray put his hands up and looked her directly in the eye. "I swear Kit, that's it. Just that and thought we could get a drink sometime..." he inhaled deeply as her heel dug into his pants.
"Now THAT really sounds like a come on."
He struggled to catch his breath, squinting against the pain that was firing through his loins. "I swear...I'm not...h...hitting on you. Its just....interesting to see.....oh GOD....a woman who can shoot like that." He blurted out the last part as his hands flew to his heel, trying desperately to free himself.
She kicked his hand away but released him from her hold. Still standing over him she looked at him intently, trying to read his face for lies. She finally held a hand out to him, helping him to his feet. "Its just stupid to follow a woman to her car. And how the fuck do you even know my name?"
He took her hand and regained his footing. Dusting himself off and catching his breath, he looked up at her from his hunched position. "Marty told me. He and I go way back. I've been comin here since this place opened 10 years ago. He knows I'm no weirdo." He straightened himself to full standing, extending his hand to her. "Name's Ray. Ray Kinder."
Again she looks at his face, finally decided that he wasn't crazy, just stupid. She shook his hand. "Kitty. Kitty Basher."
Drying herself off in front of the mirror, she admired her tone physique. Not bad for a woman of 35. Her long red hair fell over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. She noticed that there were a few more wrinkles framing her gray eyes now than she remembered being there last year. As she turned, glancing over her shoulder at her backside she cringed at the sight of the scars that covered her back. There were more here than anywhere else on her body. Most were only an inch or two long but the one that ran diagonally across her back, from her left shoulder to just above her right ass cheek was the one that had made her who she was today. The bastard who had left that mark on her when she was only a child had been her second target. The first had been the one that her sponsor had contacted her for in the first place.
Her sponsor, a wealthy Phoenix business owner, had heard about her from Ray, a mutual friend. She had met Ray while at the gun range. He had sat and watched her practice for over an hour before he finally tried to talk to her. She had blown him off of course but he could not be discouraged. He showed up every time she was there and sat and watched her. She figured it was because of the low cut tops or the way her jeans hugged every inch of her. She didn't figure him for a stalker or psychopath. He was very well dressed in slacks and shirt and tie. It was only his hair that didn't fit. It was almost the same shade of brown as his eyes, but it was always a mess. Short but tousled and not in the cool way the young men wore it these days. His hair gave the impression that he had just climbed out of bed.
He followed her to her car one afternoon after watching her again. He called her name as she pulled her keys out. Instinct made her spin and swing, landing her fist squarely on his jaw and knocking him to the ground. As he fell she came to stand over him, looking him in the eye she planted her 3 inch heel directly over his crotch. "Mister you just don't know how to take no for an answer do ya," she asked rhetorically adding pressure to her foot.
He looked down at her foot trying to sink his body into the concrete below him. "I just wanted to say hi and tell you that you are by far the best shot I have ever seen here, woman or man."
She added a tad more pressure, twisting her foot sideways. "Sounds like a come on line to me," Kitty sneered.
Ray put his hands up and looked her directly in the eye. "I swear Kit, that's it. Just that and thought we could get a drink sometime..." he inhaled deeply as her heel dug into his pants.
"Now THAT really sounds like a come on."
He struggled to catch his breath, squinting against the pain that was firing through his loins. "I swear...I'm not...h...hitting on you. Its just....interesting to see.....oh GOD....a woman who can shoot like that." He blurted out the last part as his hands flew to his heel, trying desperately to free himself.
She kicked his hand away but released him from her hold. Still standing over him she looked at him intently, trying to read his face for lies. She finally held a hand out to him, helping him to his feet. "Its just stupid to follow a woman to her car. And how the fuck do you even know my name?"
He took her hand and regained his footing. Dusting himself off and catching his breath, he looked up at her from his hunched position. "Marty told me. He and I go way back. I've been comin here since this place opened 10 years ago. He knows I'm no weirdo." He straightened himself to full standing, extending his hand to her. "Name's Ray. Ray Kinder."
Again she looks at his face, finally decided that he wasn't crazy, just stupid. She shook his hand. "Kitty. Kitty Basher."
Bubble Baths and Handguns
Kitty pulled the bubbles from the bathwater caressingly over her naked body. The hot water felt tantalizingly good on her aching frame, luring her body lower into the water. She closed her eyes, enjoying the slight tickle of the bubbles. The scars covering her body were not visible behind her closed lids but their presence could not be denied as her fingers traced each one blindly. As she lay her head back and let her body relax her hand instinctively went to the side of the tub where her Browning 9mm sat. Her hand slid over it, stroking the smooth expoxy finish. Her finger seemed to intimately invade the trigger, teasing it with her touch.
She places her foot against the wall of the shower and gently glides the the pistol across her thigh. It was a shame she hadn't just fired the weapon. This always felt a little naughtier when the barrel was still hot. Images of of her targets passed through her mind. Always pleading for their lives, repenting whatever sin had brought her to their doorstep. But in the end they all met the same fate. Their was no deliverance from what they were to face. At times it was quick, a bullet to the back of the head and other times she drew it out, shooting off one finger or toe at a time. The severity of their sin determined the severity of their punishment and no amount of begging could change what they had done.
She places her foot against the wall of the shower and gently glides the the pistol across her thigh. It was a shame she hadn't just fired the weapon. This always felt a little naughtier when the barrel was still hot. Images of of her targets passed through her mind. Always pleading for their lives, repenting whatever sin had brought her to their doorstep. But in the end they all met the same fate. Their was no deliverance from what they were to face. At times it was quick, a bullet to the back of the head and other times she drew it out, shooting off one finger or toe at a time. The severity of their sin determined the severity of their punishment and no amount of begging could change what they had done.
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