I smirked as I saw him through the window. I dropped my boot clad feet down from the table and picked up my pistol. The shotgun was back at home in the closet, so this would have to do. Boy, did he have a surprise coming. He was expecting his quiet little country girl. Well, that's not who he was going to get. He was going to get the woman who didn't take any shit from a little boy with commitment issues.
I licked my lips and walked to the window to watch as he stumbled towards the door. He was drunk, as per usual. He wasn't man enough to antagonize me when he was sober, but a few shots of Jack gave him the courage he needed. I shook my head. He wanted to start something. He wanted a... what was the word he had used? A fire. Yes, he wanted a fire and I planned on delivering.
With a bang, so to speak.
My boots thumped against the hardwood floor as I crossed the room to greet him at the front door. He didn't understand. He would. He had never seen this side of me. He'd only seen the polite girl my Mama had raised. He hadn't met the hell raiser that my Daddy had brought up. The smirk that was playing on my lips widened into a grin. Where I was from, little girls were expected to know how to deal with everything and anything. Most solutions involved a gun of some kind.
I threw the door open and his surprised eyes met my dancing ones. "Sweetheart," I said, cocking the gun. "How was your night?"
He took a short step backward and started to stutter. "Wh-wha-what?"
I let the hand holding the gun drop to my side. I caressed his cheek with the other hand. "What's the matter, love?" I asked, tilting my head at him thoughtfully.
His eyes darted around for a while before landing on the gun. I blinked and held it up in front of his face. "What, this? Is this why you're all fired up?"
His eyes flickered to my face with those words and I fixed my face in a hard expression. Maybe it was time to quit toying with him. Time to just execute the plan. I raised my arm and pointed the pistol in between his eyes. His eyes crossed to look at it.
"What's wrong? I'm just giving you what you wanted," I said as innocently as I could.
"Wh-what I wa-wanted?" he repeated, peeling his eyes away from the gun again. He shut them and I shifted the gun and pressed it against his forehead a little harder than necessary.
"Yes. A fire. You said you wanted a fire, right?" I swallowed and savored his reaction. He was sweating now and his throat was working frantically, swallowing every few seconds. I rolled my eyes after a moment or two. "I'm giving you one," I whispered and pulled the trigger.
He jumped, but nothing except the empty click filled the silence. Until I started laughing. I dropped the gun on the floor and took a step back. He dropped to his knees, clutching his heart. I smiled at him and squatted down next to him. His eyes were accusatory as they reached up to mine.
"I hope you've learned your lesson. Next time I won't be so nice," I said before standing up and walking out the door. I'd leave the gun as a reminder to him.
As I walked towards my car, I lit a cigarette and gave a short little laugh. I don't think he'd ever put another girl through the hell I'd had to deal with.
I counted it as a job well done.
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