Destiny's Revenge (Destiny Series - Book 2) Straight, Nancy (book club reads .TXT) đź“–
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We pulled up to the front door of the house and saw Joe sitting right where we had left him on the front porch. Max rolled down his window, and said, “Gramps, we want you to come along with us.”
Joe shook his head and waved us off with his arm, “No, you two go on, I’ll be fine. Go have a good time.” Max looked at me uncertain what to do.
“He needs to come with us, Max. We can’t leave him here.”
Max leaned back out his window, “We aren’t leaving you, come on, Gramps – I’ll take you to see Ruby. I’m sure she’d like the company.”
The pleasure on Joe’s face was apparent; Max had just hit on the magic word. Joe stood up from his chair and went into the house. Some minutes later he stepped out the door in a clean shirt and with a freshly shaven face. Joe climbed into the front seat, “Max, you don’t have to entertain me. I don’t mind you two going off and doing your own thing.”
Max nodded but didn’t say a word as he pulled out of the driveway. I looked into the woods closest to the house and didn’t see anything, but I could feel … something. There was no figure looking back at me, no glowing eyes, but a feeling of dread emanated from the tree line.
I continued to look but saw nothing. After I finally looked away, I could hear Rewsna’s voice in my head saying, “Yes, Lauren, I felt it, too.”
Chapter 10
Max and I walked Joe into the Assisted Living recreation room and found Ruby right away. I had called ahead to let her know Joe was going to stop by to spend a few hours with her. She greeted us as soon as we walked through the door. “Wow, you two look great! You look like you’ve gotten some sun.”
I hadn’t thought much about it before, but he and I had been a pasty white while we resided here, only venturing outside when Joe wanted to smoke. Since we had arrived at the farm, we’d been pulling weeds, trimming bushes, hoeing the garden and repairing fences. I responded with, “I can’t speak for Joe, but I’m not ready for this life of luxury again,” sliding my hand through Max’s arm.
Ruby asked us to come sit down, but Max and I excused ourselves, telling Joe we’d be back around six to pick him up. We were almost to the door when I turned back around and reminded Joe, “Remember, you are a guest, not a resident this time – be nice to the staff.”
Joe just waved me off. Warning or not, some things never change.
Max and I made our way to Marvin’s indoor shooting range. I thought we were just going to do some target practice. Max had been pretty quiet after Rewsna’s visit this morning, and I assumed he could blow off some steam.
We got up to the counter and Marvin said, “Hi Max, great to see you again, how was the war? How long have you been back?” Then Marvin’s face contorted a little and he squinted at me, comprehension registered, and in a less jovial voice, “Lauren?. . . I thought…” Marvin looked from me to Max as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Max nodded and I smiled responding, “Neither robber nor bear can keep a good girl down.”
Marvin didn’t even smile at my attempt at humor. He still looked stunned, as if he wanted to say something but opted not to.
“Max and I were thinking it might be fun to squeeze off a few rounds. I really liked the small handgun the last time, I think it was a .22. Could I use that one again?”
Marvin looked under the counter when Max interrupted him, “Marvin, she’s going to buy one today. Do you have a Glock she can try on for size?” My expression had to have looked bewildered. I had no idea we were here to purchase. Max looked in my direction and followed with, “In case you run into a bear again.”
Marvin nodded and replied, “I don’t have any used Glocks, so if you want one you won’t be able to test drive it ahead of time. I do have some decent Berettas that are hardly used that she could try out.”
Max nodded, “Make us a deal, we might take both off your hands today.”
Marvin handed me the Beretta, showed me how to load it, handed me the liability statement to sign and some ear muffs. He set me up on the range and went back out to the store front. Max came in with a huge handgun when I was about half way through the box of ammunition. He pushed a button that moved the target all the way to the end of the range. I could see him through the divider and his expression was hard. Without even glancing in my direction, he let loose on the target. I counted the rounds, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, all in close succession, not even a half second delay between fires. The sound, though muffled by my hearing protection, was still deafening. He laid the revolver down on the counter and pulled the target in to take a closer look. A very compact circle of five rounds was where the person’s heart would have been on the silhouette. Max moved the target back to where it had been and used a second weapon, not as thunderous, but still
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