“I’m not buying that. I’ll teach you, but you have to tell me what brought this on. Are you sure nothing’s happened?”
I give him a big smile and scoot across the front bench of the truck to get closer to him. I can’t tell him. He’ll make me tell Dad and Dad will call the suits and I don’t ever want to see them again. I fought too hard to get this wonderfully normal life and I’m not ready to give it up.
“Everything’s fine. Stop overthinking this. I know I freaked last time but I’m prepared now. I want to learn. I don’t want to be scared.”
I hope I didn’t oversell it.
He moves a hand from the steering wheel to mine, squeezing it tightly. “Just as long as you’re sure. I don’t know if I can handle it if you pass out. That damn near killed me, seeing you on the ground like that.”
And I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of hearing him talk in that slow, smooth Louisiana drawl or seeing that dimple dig deep into his cheek. This moment, in the truck with him, reinforces why I will not go back to the way things were. I want this life. I deserve this life. But I need to learn how to protect myself. I don’t ever want to be a victim again.
“Does your dad know you want to do this?”
“No. But it’s not like I’m hiding it from him. He wouldn’t understand and I don’t want to try to explain it. He won’t get it.”
The first twenty-four hours after Thomas returned my journal and left the creepy note, I was terrified. I stuck to Dad and Teeny like glue, not willing to let them out of my sight. And Ethan, he knew something was wrong, but I dodged his questions like the seasoned evader I am. There were a million times in that first day that I teetered on the brink of telling Dad everything, but I couldn’t say the words that would surely bring the suits back into our lives. And what would they do, anyway? All they know about Thomas is that he’s some sort of assassin, or killer for hire, or something horrible like that. But that’s it. They would have no idea how to catch him—so they’d probably just toss us back into the program.
After that first day, when nothing else happened, I decided that maybe Thomas did mean exactly what he said in the note: He just wanted me to have my journal back. I know enough about Thomas to know that if he wanted me dead, I would be dead.
Ethan pulls through the front gate of the farm and I rub my sweaty hands down the front of my jeans.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
There are several tractors working in the distance and I spot Ethan’s dad’s truck parked at the barn. I was hoping we would be alone—I don’t need any witnesses if I am, in fact,notready to do this.
Ethan turns off the truck and pulls me in closer, kissing me gently on the lips.
“We’ll start slow. You can hold the gun, load it, get a feel for it. If that seems all right, then maybe we’ll try to fire a few rounds. If you start feeling bad, tell me and we’ll stop. Don’t push yourself on this. You’re safe with me. You just have to put all of the other bad stuff out of your mind.”
I drag him toward me, away from the steering wheel, and crawl in his lap, kissing him deeply. He knows and understands me like no one else ever has and that is a serious turn-on.
It’s not long before we’re totally making out in the front of his truck.
We hear a four-wheeler approach and I jump off Ethan’s lap and move back to my side of the truck just before his dad stops on Ethan’s side. I’m sure the slightly fogged windows give a little clue as to what was happening inside.
Ethan chuckles as he rolls down his window. “Hey, Dad.”
He nods, sneaking a peek at us when he says, “Hey, son. Anna.” He looks as embarrassed as I feel.
“Hi, Mr. Landry.” My face is on fire.
“Dad, I’m going to teach Anna how to shoot this morning.”
Mr. Landry jerks his head to me quickly. He also witnessed my meltdown the last time I was around a gun. “Are you sure?”
I nod and Ethan says, “We’re going to ease into it. No rush.”
No rush. I hope he’s right and I won’t need this skill anytime soon.
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
Live on the fringe of society….
New rule by Anna Boyd:
