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."