AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, yeah? I can’t wait to see it,” I tell him, meaning every word.
Aris canceled our lunch order and then we hit the road. He went from being all gloom and doom to bouncing in his seat as he drove us back to his residence. We had an entourage with us, one of Kayson’s guys trailed us back and refused to leave us alone. And Aris tried to tell him we needed to spend some time on our own. As a matter of fact, he all but begged, but the guy put his foot down and asked him a question that had Aris reeling. Even now, I can’t get the question he asked out of my head.
“If you’re being followed, are you willing to shoot to kill?”
Aris of course stated that if it was my life or theirs he would. Afterward, he reluctantly admitted that he’s more of a hand-to-hand combat, brawler, kind of guy and isn’t overly experienced with a loaded weapon. So now, he’s added hitting up a gun range to today’s to-do list. He plans on signing us both up for classes and purchasing a pistol or two—for his sanity. What was meant to be a detoxing day, is turning out to be anything but.
“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with shooting a gun, Aris,” I tell him as we pull into his driveway. “I don’t know if I could shoot anyone, even if it meant saving my life.”
“What about Berkley? Would you shoot someone to save his life? Mine? Because I have to tell you, Berlynn, I’m not a fan of taking anybody’s life, but if it was to save you or Berk, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Twisting in my seat as soon as he turns the ignition, shutting the SUV down, I say, “My dad is nothing but death and destruction according to the reports I read in your office that Garrickdropped off to me while you were in your meeting. I don’t want to be like him. In any capacity.”
Aris leans his head back on the seat and closes his eyes. “You could never be anything like Marcus, Berlynn. I’d like to think I couldn’t be either, but when it comes to my family, I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you breathing. Even if that means I have to take a life. Just sign up for the classes with me, and we’ll both pray that we never have to point them at another human being. It’ll help me rest easier at night if I know we have a way to defend ourselves if someone is able to breach our security.”
“Second line of defense?” I ask, chewing on my bottom lip. Letting out a breath of air, I contemplate what he’s asked. It’s not a lot, how can I deny him this if it means we are at least knowledgeable in gun safety? It’s better than not having that education and shooting all willy-nilly if it came down to protecting one of us.
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
“Might be fun,” I amend, then tack on, “could be a good stress reliever too.”
As if a lightbulb has been switched off in his head he snaps his fingers and looks over at me. “We could make a competition of sorts,” he suggests.
“What’d you have in mind, Aris?” Whenever I’ve been in doubt about doing something, he always turns it into a contest because he knows I have a hard time resisting one.
“The loser has to do the others’ laundry for a week,” he says around a blinding smile.
“You dry clean your suits and I’m picky about how my things are folded. Make it the loser cleans the others’ bathroom for a week and you’re on,” I revise.
“I have a cleaning company come in and do that. Why would I agree to do it when I could just have the crew that comes in do it instead, Berlynn?”
“Because it’d be a humbling experience for you, Aris.”
Snickering, he asks, “You’re pretty sure you’re going to win, aren’t you?”
“Don’t I always?” I part with that question by exiting the car. “Now, show me this bike! I wanna see what you’ve done.”
His boisterous laughter is heard even after I shut the door. It should’ve blocked out the noise, but he’s always been loud and uproarious when he gets excitable. My smile soon follows his as we stare at each other over the roof of the vehicle.
“Always so sure of yourself, Ber.”
“Nah. I just know how to fake it until I make it, Aris.”
“I’m gonna kill your parents,” he mumbles the threat, one I think he truly means, but his voice wasn’t low enough that I don’t hear and comprehend what he says.
“Let’s leave their fate to the district attorney, Aris. I just got you back, don’t take yourself away from me.”
“We’ll see,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the hood of his car before walking away. He turns back around and raises his eyebrows. “You coming? I thought you wanted to see the masterpiece I designed.”
“Absolutely!” That’s a dare I’m ready to face. He’s always been brilliant with designs and modifications so I can’t wait to find out what he’s done to his motorcycle.
He marches over to the corner of the garage and removes a blue tarp from over a large object. My eyes widen and a gasp escapes me once it’s been exposed.
“Aris! That can’t be the same bike you used to piddle with. It can’t be, it looks like a brand new bike, not a junkyard find.” It’s stunning, majestically so. The gas tank is dark blue with purple bolts of lightning embedded in the paint. The chrome is shiny, and the seat is matte black with purple and blue stitching to match the tank.
“This is her. My sweet Susanna. Isn’t she a beauty, Berl?”
“You named her Susanna?” I ask, laughing. The first time I took first place in a floor routine, it was to the acoustics of, “Oh, Susanna”, which is why I find this naming both mortifying and hilarious. I hated using that music for my piece! Not because the song sucked, it doesn’t, it’s a fun song to listen to but I didn’t care for it because the rhythm was hard to tumble to.
