Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Yeah. It’s actually kind of disorienting out here if you’re not used to it,” I agreed. “The shooting range is like two miles from the house, and walking it in either the day or night can play tricks on you until you get familiar with it.”
“Hey, you never said there would be exercise associated with this trip,” Sway said, tone playfully accusatory.
“Just think of all the miles of wilderness around us as we get naked,” I said.
“That’s… a great point,” he decided as I turned off the road suddenly.
“Wait… this is it?” he asked, looking confused.
Who could blame him?
There was no driveway, no house in sight, no way to know that this was the exact spot to pull off onto.
I only knew it by memory, a familiar Joshua tree with a trio of yucca bushes around it and a slightly out-of-place big rock situated nearby.
No one else would be able to find it.
I’d missed it the first three times I’d come to shoot.
“Yep,” I said, nodding. “This is why I insisted we bring two spare tires,” I told him, waving out toward the rugged terrain. There was potential for a blown-out tire all around.
A few curves around small mountains later, the cabin was finally coming into view.
It was situated all by itself with flatland all around. Which, I figured, was some sort of safety thing, being placed there. So you could see all around. No one hiding just behind a mountain.
I wondered if maybe Cohen’s father or grandfather—or both—had also been in the military, had similar fears and paranoias.
The cabin itself was a big box with wooden shingles and a metal roof that overhung the wide front porch that had a single rocking chair and table there since Cohen lived alone.
“Uh oh,” Sway said as we pulled up, and three Bloodhounds came running from the back of the house, barking wildly, all hanging jowls and massive ears.
“They know me,” I assured him. The dogs were always the welcome party. A way for Cohen to know someone was around. “Hey, boys,” I called out my window, watching as their tails started to wiggle. “Oh, Bowie, you got big, buddy,” I called to the one that came rushing up first.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d been all ears and the start of a bellowing howl and was forever driving his brothers crazy.
“Mercury, Jett,” I called, feeling a small pang at the white on Mercury’s face. Time etched itself on dogs’ faces way too young. “Is your dad around?” I asked as I cut the engine and climbed out, walking around to Sway’s side to show the dogs that he wasn’t someone to worry about either.
“Mercury, Jett, and Bowie, huh?” Sway asked. “Sounds like someone else’s musical tastes are stuck in a bygone era too.”
“Not everyone knows the musical stylings of Paris, Hilary, and Lindsay,” I told him.
“And the world is worse off for it,” Sway said confidently.
“Where’s Dad, guys?” I asked, looking around. “Cohen?” I called. “It’s Murphy,” I added, as if he might have a lot of female clients coming to his place. “Cohen?” I called again, frowning.
I knew that he grew a lot of his own food, that he hunted, that he worked hard to provide for himself and his dogs.
Maybe he was just off trying to keep some vegetables alive in this harsh climate. Or off trying to get some game to bring home to feed himself and his dogs.
“Hmm,” I said, looking around. “Okay. Well. He’ll show up eventually,” I declared, going into the car to uncover the box with the guns that we’d stashed under the floorboard of the trunk. I grabbed a bottle of water too, knowing I would need it.
“Are we just going to go out there without permission?”
“Well, I am,” I told him, flipping sunglasses over my eyes. “You are going to hang here to wait for Cohen and explain.”
“Baby, no,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, come on. I’ve done this a million times. It’s fine. And if Cohen shows back up and sees an unfamiliar car, he is going to flip shit,” I told him. “I don’t want to piss him off. I really need this place. So just hang with the dogs on the porch in the shade. I’ll be, like, three hours tops,” I told him.
“Three hours?” he balked.
“It’s about two miles out that way,” I said, waving to the side. “I could do it at a dead run in probably half an hour each way, but I’m not doing that. Just hang tight,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Cohen will show up eventually, then you can test out your charm on someone even more standoffish than me.”
“I don’t like you out there alone.”
I couldn’t stop the eye roll then.
“Everything will be fine,” I assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then heading off.