33
Mehar
Quest had set up targets about fifty yards out in the woods behind the estate. Wooden posts with paper silhouettes stapled to them, spaced apart at different angles. The spring air was warm and the sun was coming through the trees in patches that moved when the breeze did and the whole property smelled like fresh cut grass and Virginia soil.
He handed me the AK-47 and I almost dropped it because the weight was nothing like the Glock. This was a weapon built for a different conversation entirely.
“It’s heavier than what you’re used to,” he said, standing behind me. “The recoil is gonna push you back hard so you gotta widen your stance and lean into it. Don’t fight the kick, absorb it.”
He put his hands on my hips and adjusted my footing. Pushed my left foot forward about six inches and pressed his palm against the small of my back until my posture shifted. His chest was against my shoulder blades and I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt and his breath on my neck and this man had no idea what he was doing to me right now. Or maybe he did and that was the point.
“Ear protection on,” he said. He pulled my muffs down over my ears and then put his own on and stepped to the side but stayed close. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I squeezed the trigger and the world exploded. The recoil slammed into my shoulder and pushed me back two full steps and my ears were ringing even through the muffs and the target was untouched because my shot went about three feet wide.
“That’s okay,” Quest said. “First time with an AK always humbles you. Reset. Widen your feet. Try again.”
I reset. Wider stance this time. Leaned forward the way he showed me. Squeezed again. The kick was still vicious but I held my ground and the paper silhouette tore near the left shoulder.
“There you go. You clipped him. Now aim center mass and squeeze, don’t pull.”
I fired again. Center chest. The paper ripped clean.
“That’s my girl,” he shouted. He was grinning behind me and I could hear it in his voice even through the ear protection. “Again.”
I emptied the rest of the magazine into that target and by the last five rounds I was grouping tight enough that Quest was nodding with his arms crossed like a proud teacher watching his best student graduate. I set the AK down on the folding table he’d brought out and pulled my ear muffs off and my shoulder was throbbing and my hands were buzzing and I felt something the Glock had never given me. The Glock was defense. This was something else.
“How’s the shoulder?” he asked, pulling his muffs off.
“Sore. But I like it.”
“You’re a natural. Took me three magazines before I could group like that.”
“You’re lying to make me feel good.”
He winked, “Is it working?”
I laughed and sat on the edge of the table and drank from the water bottle he handed me. The trees around us were full and green and the birds had come back now that the shooting had stopped. It was quiet and warm and for a minute it felt like we were just two people in the woods enjoying a spring afternoon instead of a couple who’d killed multiple people between them in the last month.
“I need to ask you something,” he said, leaning against a tree across from me. “About Janelle.”
I’d been waiting for this conversation. I knew it was coming since the cigar bar with Mekhi. Quest wasn’t going to make this decision without me and I respected that.
“What about her?” I asked.
“Mekhi asked me to leave her alone. He’s gonna put her in a facility, get her real help. He says she’s spiraling and Quindon’s death broke something in her.” He paused. “I told him it was your call. So I’m asking.”
I took another sip of water and looked at the targets downrange. Holes in the paper where a body would be. I thought about Janelle chaining me to a ceiling. I thought about waking up in that warehouse with zip ties on my wrists and Thad’s dead body on the floor. I thought about what I would do to her if I ever saw her again and how easy it would be and how satisfying it would feel.
Then I thought about Bryce. My little brother with a baby on the way who Mekhi had agreed to leave alone. That protection was tied to this truce and this truce was tied to Janelle being alive. If I went after her, Mekhi’s word on Bryce meant nothing. I’d be trading my revenge for my brother’s safety and that math only worked one way.
“I’m not going to kill her,” I said. “Your relationship with Mekhi matters. And Bryce’s safety matters more than my satisfaction. So she gets to live.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. But I’m filing a complaint with the Board of Psychology. Dual relationship violation and breach of confidentiality. She was my therapist while she had a personal connection to you that she never disclosed. She used information from our sessions for her own agenda. I don’t have to mention the kidnapping or anything criminal. Just the ethics violations. The board will investigate, suspend her license, and she’ll never sit across from another client again.”
Quest looked at me for a long moment. Then he smiled. Not the charming smile or the business smile. The one that said he was genuinely impressed.
