was breathless and spent as I lay on Stone’s chest. It rose and fell as well, as Stone caught his own breath. Then I heard those words. The words I should have said before and needed to be said now.
“I love you, Maria. I’ve loved you since I first met you,” he told me. I’d said those words in haste and desperation earlier and I meant them. But now, I said them because I wanted to. I was even surer now than I was before. I loved this man.
“I love you too, Stone. I love you so much,” I said. It was impulsive to be sure but it felt right. We lay there holding each other until we fell asleep. I was far too tired and drained to consider what might happen tomorrow at midnight. I didn’t want to. I wanted to live in this moment for as long as I could.
>>O<<
Sunday morning came far too soon. I made Stone breakfast and then he took me out to the desert in his old pickup truck. I wished we were running away, part of me anyway. We weren’t. Stone was taking me out to teach me how to handle a pistol. He insisted I carry one when we went to settle things with the Jamaicans. He was still sore but his ankle was much better. He barely had a limp anymore.
“Yeah, hold it just like that. Now don’t jerk the trigger...squeeze it. It will kick so hold on tight...but not too tight,” he told me.
“Is that supposed to help?” I asked him. Stone smirked at me.
“Don’t let the gun get in your head. You control the gun,” he told me. I nodded and looked down range. I peered down the sights as Stone had shown me, slipped my finger onto the trigger and took a deep breath. I squeezed and...it wasn’t that bad. I could hear the gun go off but with the ear muffs on, it wasn’t loud or scary.
“That’s fun,” I told him, turning to regard Stone. He extended a hand and made sure I didn’t point the gun his way. “Oh, sorry,” I said. This was all new to me and all the safety procedures weren’t ingrained yet.
“That’s fine. Go ahead and do it again,” he told me. I nodded and did as Stone told me. Soon, I had emptied the magazine, 15 rounds in this case. I turned to see what Stone thought, paying attention to where I pointed the gun this time. He handed me another magazine. “Good job. Now load another, rack the slide and do it again,” he told me.
“Okay,” I replied and did as he asked. I emptied that magazine and several more until I was shooting acceptable groups. In other words, all the bullets actually hit the target but not necessarily the middle.
“Good enough,” Stone told me as he took the gun. “Stand back,” he told me. I took a couple of steps backwards. He slammed a magazine in, released the slide and pointed the gun downrange. Suddenly, he let loose, emptying his magazine in mere seconds and in a circle dead center on the target the size of the lid on my cup of coffee.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed. Stone checked the gun to make sure it was empty and set it on the case that sat on the tailgate of his pickup.
“Impressive, right?” he remarked.
“Honestly, yes. I want to be able to do that,” I told him.
“Practice, practice, practice,” he told me.
“Can I have my own?” I wondered.
“Yeah, if you want. You don’t need my permission,” he replied.
“I mean, can I legally get one?” I asked.
“Oh, not like this one. This one is illegal here,” Stone told me. “How old are you?” he added.
“Twenty,” I said.
“Really?” he asked.
“I’m almost twenty one,” I told him. Stone smirked and raised that single eyebrow at me. “What?” I wondered.
“I didn’t know you were so young,” he said.
“Oh stop it, you sicko,” I teased.
“Anyway, you can’t buy a handgun until your twenty-one. But I can buy one and give it to you. We’ll take a trip
“I love you, Maria. I’ve loved you since I first met you,” he told me. I’d said those words in haste and desperation earlier and I meant them. But now, I said them because I wanted to. I was even surer now than I was before. I loved this man.
“I love you too, Stone. I love you so much,” I said. It was impulsive to be sure but it felt right. We lay there holding each other until we fell asleep. I was far too tired and drained to consider what might happen tomorrow at midnight. I didn’t want to. I wanted to live in this moment for as long as I could.
>>O<<
Sunday morning came far too soon. I made Stone breakfast and then he took me out to the desert in his old pickup truck. I wished we were running away, part of me anyway. We weren’t. Stone was taking me out to teach me how to handle a pistol. He insisted I carry one when we went to settle things with the Jamaicans. He was still sore but his ankle was much better. He barely had a limp anymore.
“Yeah, hold it just like that. Now don’t jerk the trigger...squeeze it. It will kick so hold on tight...but not too tight,” he told me.
“Is that supposed to help?” I asked him. Stone smirked at me.
“Don’t let the gun get in your head. You control the gun,” he told me. I nodded and looked down range. I peered down the sights as Stone had shown me, slipped my finger onto the trigger and took a deep breath. I squeezed and...it wasn’t that bad. I could hear the gun go off but with the ear muffs on, it wasn’t loud or scary.
“That’s fun,” I told him, turning to regard Stone. He extended a hand and made sure I didn’t point the gun his way. “Oh, sorry,” I said. This was all new to me and all the safety procedures weren’t ingrained yet.
“That’s fine. Go ahead and do it again,” he told me. I nodded and did as Stone told me. Soon, I had emptied the magazine, 15 rounds in this case. I turned to see what Stone thought, paying attention to where I pointed the gun this time. He handed me another magazine. “Good job. Now load another, rack the slide and do it again,” he told me.
“Okay,” I replied and did as he asked. I emptied that magazine and several more until I was shooting acceptable groups. In other words, all the bullets actually hit the target but not necessarily the middle.
“Good enough,” Stone told me as he took the gun. “Stand back,” he told me. I took a couple of steps backwards. He slammed a magazine in, released the slide and pointed the gun downrange. Suddenly, he let loose, emptying his magazine in mere seconds and in a circle dead center on the target the size of the lid on my cup of coffee.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed. Stone checked the gun to make sure it was empty and set it on the case that sat on the tailgate of his pickup.
“Impressive, right?” he remarked.
“Honestly, yes. I want to be able to do that,” I told him.
“Practice, practice, practice,” he told me.
“Can I have my own?” I wondered.
“Yeah, if you want. You don’t need my permission,” he replied.
“I mean, can I legally get one?” I asked.
“Oh, not like this one. This one is illegal here,” Stone told me. “How old are you?” he added.
“Twenty,” I said.
“Really?” he asked.
“I’m almost twenty one,” I told him. Stone smirked and raised that single eyebrow at me. “What?” I wondered.
“I didn’t know you were so young,” he said.
“Oh stop it, you sicko,” I teased.
“Anyway, you can’t buy a handgun until your twenty-one. But I can buy one and give it to you. We’ll take a trip
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