by Mark Allen
Realization dawning, he looked at Larissa.
She bent down and stroked the Shepherd’s head, ruffling him behind the ears. “Easy, Sirius. He’s a friend. Friend.” She emphasized the word, but the way Sirius kept eyeballing him like he wanted to tear off a chunk or two made Kain less than sure the dog was getting the message. Larissa stood back up and faced Kain. “Sorry. He’s a bit overprotective.”
“He’s yours?”
“Sure is. Sirius is my eyes these days.” She smiled, but Kain detected pain behind the brightness. “I’m not wearing these sunglasses just to be fashionable.” There was a mischievous lilt in her voice that Kain had always loved.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you all about it over lunch,” Larissa said. “Just let me finish my business here and then we can go play catch up. I’ll even let you buy.”
“All right.” Kain’s heart had stopped pounding, thank God. He didn’t want to sit through lunch stammering like some idiot schoolboy on his first date.
Larissa turned back to Paul. “Sorry about that. He and I go way back and we haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
“Glad I could be around for the reunion.” Paul sounded bored.
“Anyway,” Larissa said, “you were about to explain to me exactly why you feel I shouldn’t own a handgun.”
Paul glanced at Kain, then back to Larissa. “Well, ma’am, it’s like this—there’s a five-day waiting period on handguns. Gives Uncle Sam time to do a background check and when they do, they’re gonna realize you got no business with a pistola, pure and simple.”
“Why? Because I’m blind?”
“Well … yeah.”
“Why shouldn’t a blind person own a pistol?”
“Uh, what for?”
“Protection, the same reason thousands of other people own handguns.”
Paul sighed. “No offense, ma’am, but you might shoot the wrong person. You can’t see where you’re aiming.”
Larissa started to say something, but Paul cut her off.
“Listen,” he said, “this conversation is pointless anyway. They—the government—aren’t gonna let you buy a handgun. It’s that pure and simple.”
“So ‘they’ don’t need to know,” Larissa said. “Is there anyone else in the store?”
“Just your friend there.”
“Him I trust,” Larissa said. “As long as there’s nobody else in here, let me put this in plain English for you. I live down in Albany and the only reason I took a bus all the way up here to your store is because I was led to believe that if I needed to obtain a handgun without going through the whole paperwork process, you were the man to see.”
Paul abruptly looked more nervous than a priest caught masturbating. “Who told you that?” he demanded. “I oughta sue for defamation of character.” He sounded indignant, but Kain could tell it was all an act.
“A friend told me,” Larissa replied. “That’s all I can say.”
Paul leaned forward, elbows on the counter, and lowered his voice. Maybe it made him feel better, more secretive, but Kain could still hear every word. “Let me see if I got this straight,” the gun dealer said. “You want me to sell you a pistol right here and now, without botherin’ with all the red tape bullshit.” His eyes flicked to Kain, then back to Larissa. “That’s illegal, ma’am, pure and simple.”
“I’m willing to pay extra.”
“I see.” Paul tossed Kain another glance.
Kain decided to set the man’s mind at ease. “It’s your business, fella. Don’t worry about me.”
Paul asked, “You a cop?”
“Not even close.”
“You have to tell me if I ask, you know.”
“You asked and I told you,” Kain said. “I’m not a cop.”
Paul stared at him, undecided.
Larissa tapped her fingers on the glass counter-top. “Well, do we have a deal or not?”
Paul finally nodded, apparently convinced Kain wasn’t a badge. “Yeah, I have a few in the back that aren’t on the books and can’t be traced. Hold on a second.” He disappeared through a doorway behind the counter.
While they waited, Larissa tucked a silken strand of blond hair back behind her ear. Kain felt a stab of nostalgia, remembering how many times he had cradled her in his arms and done the exact same thing. Pleasant times, good times, before his life went to hell, before his best friend betrayed him, before he opened a bathroom door and saw white skin in blood-red water. Kain felt the nostalgia twist into bitterness. Amazing how fast good memories could lead to bad ones.
Paul returned with his illicit inventory. “I’ve got some Magnums here,” he said. “A few .357’s, a couple of .41’s, and a handful of .44’s.”
“No Magnums,” Larissa said. “Too much recoil. I want to protect myself, not break my wrist. Do you have anything in nine millimeter or .40? Something that will put a man down but without the kick of the Mags?”
Paul looked at her with newfound respect. “You know your guns, ma’am.”
“My husband owned a lot of them.”
Kain noticed she said owned. Past tense.
Paul pulled out a compact automatic. “This here’s an Interarms Firestar.” He hit the button to eject the magazine and then pulled back the slide to check the chamber, making sure the gun was unloaded. He popped the magazine back in and slid the weapon across the counter to Larissa. “Forty caliber with a five-round clip. Semi-auto compact, small enough to fit nicely in your purse.”
Larissa felt around in front of her until her fingers found the pistol. She picked it up, getting familiar with the weight and balance. “Feels good,” she said. The overhead fluorescent lights glinted off the stainless-steel finish.
“It’s a good gun for close quarter self-defense,” Paul said. “Which I assume is what you want it for.”
Larissa asked, “How much?”
He rattled off a price.
Larissa laid the gun down on the counter, surprisingly gentle for someone with no vision. She removed a roll of cash from her wallet and quickly peeled off some fifties and twenties. Kain wondered how she could tell the different denominations, but then he spotted the small notches cut into the corner of each bill—two notches on the twenties, five notches on the fifties. Clever. She handed the money to Paul. “Here you go.”
Paul tucked the bills into the cash register. The corner of his mouth quirked up and his tone was dry and amused as he said, “I trust you won’t be needing a receipt?”
Larissa slipped the Firestar into her purse. “No, but I could use a box of shells.”
Paul grabbed a box of ammo from the shelf behind him and gave it to her. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “On the house.”
Larissa added the cartridges to her purse, then took a firm hold of the handle on Sirius’ harness. The well-trained dog was instantly on his feet, ready to guide his master. Larissa turned toward Kain. “I have one more errand to run inside the mall. Why don’t you finish up whatever business you have here and then meet me at the restaurant? I think it’s called Ruby’s. I’m not sure since I haven’t been up this way in awhile.”
“Yeah,” Paul offered, “it’s still called Ruby’s.”
Kain said, “Sounds good. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”
“It’s a date.”
Kain watched her leave the store, Sirius guiding her with remarkable ease through the maze of aisles and displays. He did his best not to let his eyes drop and check out how her backside looked in the pair of jeans, but he failed before she was halfway to the door. Real good, that’s how it looked.
He turned to Paul, who was looking at him with a smirk. Yeah, Paul knew where his eyes had been. Kain ignored the knowing grin and said, “Appreciate you helping her out like that. She’s an old friend.”
Paul shrugged. “First Amendment gives folks the right to bear arms. Just doing my part to uphold the Constitution, pure and simple.”
Kain thought abou
t telling him it was the Second Amendment, but decided not to bother. “So you’re a patriot.”
“You betcha.”
“I’m looking for a shotgun.”
“I’ve got lots of shotguns.” Paul gestured toward the aisle Kain had checked out earlier. “Browning, Mossberg, Remington—”
“Franchi,” Kain interjected. “SPAS-12. Not the kind of toy you would have out on the floor. It’s my understanding that you have some stock in the back that’s not available to the general public.”
“Who told you that?”
“A friend.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “People and their friends. Everybody tells somebody else. It’s a miracle the cops haven’t busted me yet.” He gave Kain a look that was probably meant to be hard, but the effect was totally ruined by the thick glasses. “SPAS-12 is gonna cost you a lot of money. Have you got a lot of money?”
“I’ve got the money.”
“Then I’ve got the gun,” Paul said. “Step into the back.”
******
Twenty minutes later, Kain exited Paul’s Guns & Sporting Goods with his newly-acquired SPAS-12 hidden under his duster. The gun had been used, but after field-stripping it and examining all the parts, Kain had been satisfied it was in working condition. He walked toward his Jeep to stash the shotgun before meeting Larissa.
The wind had kicked up a couple of notches. Vigorous gusts tried to claw open the duster and expose the firepower beneath. Kain held the jacket shut. Last thing he needed was some security guard to drive by and see him packing heat. Contract security companies had a habit of hiring overzealous idiots with a penchant for overreacting.
Dead leaves rustled around his ankles as he reached the Jeep. As he tucked the SPAS-12 under a heavy quilt in the back, his thoughts turned to Larissa, no doubt already at the restaurant, seated and waiting for him. Better fifteen minutes early than one minute late, had been one of her mottos and she lived by it.
He locked the Jeep and made his way through the mall to the restaurant, situated in the far corner of the food court. The hostess greeted him and led him to where Larissa, just as he had expected, was already seated in a booth. Sirius lay quietly on the floor beside her, head resting on his paws, dark eyes watching Kain carefully as he approached. He slid into the booth across from Larissa and almost instantly a waitress appeared to take their drink orders. Kain asked for a beer, Larissa opted for some white wine.
“So,” Larissa said after the waitress departed, “how have you been, Travis?”
“Fine,” he replied. Larissa was still wearing her shades, the dark lenses reflecting Kain’s face back at him. “You?”
“I’m doing okay,” Larissa said. “But God, it has been a long time, hasn’t it? Where did the time go? I honestly meant to stay in touch with you.”
“Forget about it. After Karen died, I wasn’t much fun to be around anyway.”
“Are you much fun to be around now?” she asked with an impish grin.
“Not really.”
Her light, teasing tone was replaced by one far more grim and serious. “Are you still in the business?”
“You could say that.”
The waitress returned with their drinks. As she set them down, Kain scanned the restaurant. The act was natural as breathing, something done subconsciously. When your enemies could be anywhere, it paid to always be on guard. Here I am sitting across the table from a beautiful woman and the only thing I can think about is where the next bullet is coming from. The thought was both amusing and tragic, a bittersweet commentary on the nature of his existence.
They placed their lunch orders—sirloin steak with mushrooms for Kain, chicken alfredo for Larissa—and the waitress departed once again. Kain leaned forward, clasped his hands together on the table, and looked at Larissa. Even with the sunglasses hiding her dark, almond-shaped eyes, she was stunning as ever. “So,” he said, “how are things with you and Todd?”
Her mouth twisted bitterly. “He’s dead.” There was a lot of pain in those two words.
“God,” Kain said. “I’m sorry. How—”
“Macklin got him.”
The room suddenly felt ten degrees colder. “Macklin? You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Venom laced Larissa’s voice. “I watched him kill Todd right in front of my eyes. Just gunned him down like a dog. I saw the scar on his throat just before he shot me in the head.”
Kain’s eyes automatically flicked to the scar on her left temple.
“The bullet bounced off my skull—it was only a nine millimeter—but the shock damaged my optic centers, completely blinding me. The doctors say I’m lucky to be alive.”
“They’re right,” Kain said. “To have a bullet ricochet off your head is pretty lucky.” He gave her a grin that was surprisingly gentle for him. “Then again, you always did have a hard head.” Despite the attempt to lighten the somber mood with some banter, Kain was filled with anger. It was bad enough Black Talon had tried to take him out this morning. But finding out that they had murdered Larissa’s husband and left her blinded? That really pissed him off.
“Lucky?” Larissa let out a hollow laugh. “I’m blind, Travis. Trapped in the dark for the rest of my life. How lucky is that?”
“Very lucky,” Kain insisted. “By all rights, that bullet should have killed you.”
She turned her head toward the wall, as if unwilling to face him. When she spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper. He had to strain to make out her words. “Some days I think maybe that would have been better.” She turned to face him again and reached for her glass of wine.
That’s when Kain saw the thin white scars crisscrossing her wrists and experienced an eerie jolt of déjà-vu. A cold chill crawled down his spine and he didn’t even bother to try to hide his shock. Larissa couldn’t see him and it would have been futile anyway.
“I tried to kill myself several times,” Larissa said. It was like she could sense what he was looking at, feel what he was thinking.
“My God, Larissa.” He didn’t know what else to say.
She shrugged. “It was a rough patch. I had lost my husband and been blinded, all at the same time. Wasn’t much of a stretch to think about checking out and once you start thinking about it, actually giving it a try becomes a whole lot easier.” She gave him a smile. “But I’m over it now. Grampy Cobby helped me through it. Remember him?”
“One does not forget Grampy Cobby,” Kain said. Grampy Cobby was really Matthew Cobb, Larissa’s grandfather, the man who had raised her when her parents died in a car wreck. Kain had met the man several times while dating Larissa. He was a crotchety old man, foul-mouthed and full of piss and vinegar, but beneath his rough exterior beat the proverbial heart of gold. He was proof that you should not judge a book by its cover, because once you got past first appearances, Cobb was one of the kindest, gentlest men Kain had ever met. No father and daughter had ever been closer than Larissa and her Grampy Cobby and it was easy to imagine his strong, wise hand guiding her through the tumultuous waters of grief and depression. “Is he still around?”
“Lives about forty miles north of here, up in Dresden,” Larissa replied. “He moved to Florida for about a year but came back when Todd died. He bought an old hunting lodge about two miles back in the woods and lives like a hermit now. ‘Off the grid,’ he calls it. Says he likes the peace and quiet.”
They small-talked their way through drinks and salads. Kain sensed they were both being careful to keep the conversation light, neither wanting to step on the other’s emotional landmines. But by the time their main courses arrived, he found himself relaxing and enjoying Larissa’s company. When lunch was over, he would return to his familiar world of blood and violence, but for now that world seemed far away. Right now he was not an assassin; he was just a man like any other, enjoying the company of a beautiful woman, having lunch with an old friend. It had been a long time since he felt this normal.
He had worked his way through half his steak be
fore the conversation once again veered into more serious territory. “So,” Larissa said, twirling her fettuccine with a fork, “are you seeing anyone these days?”
Kain shook his head, remembered she couldn’t see it, and followed the headshake with, “No. After Karen, I just haven’t had any interest in getting involved with someone again. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to the person I was with.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…” Kain faltered, searching for the words; expressing his feelings had never been one of his strong points. “I just don’t think I could ever love someone else as much as I loved Karen,” he finally said.
“Even after what she did to you?”
“Just because she cheated on me doesn’t mean I stopped loving her.”
“It must have changed things, though.”
“Sure it did. But my love for her was not one of those things.”
Larissa plucked a piece of alfredo-soaked chicken from her plate and gave it to Sirius . He took it carefully from her fingers, swallowed it whole, and licked his chops appreciatively.
Kain grinned. “That dog eats better than some humans.”
“Sirius is my best friend,” Larissa said, smiling. “Have to take care of him.” She took a sip of wine and set the glass back down on the table. “Travis, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Go ahead.”
She fidgeted with her fork for a moment, then took the plunge. “Have you ever wondered how things would have turned out if we had stayed together?”
Kain replied without hesitation. “Sure, I’ve thought about it, but it’s impossible to know. Maybe things would have turned out better for both of us. Maybe they would have turned out worse. All we can do is play the hand we’re dealt.”
The corners of Larissa’s mouth quirked upwards in a smile that could have been either amused or bitter; Kain couldn’t tell which. “So you’re saying you and I just weren’t in the cards.” She appeared to be looking straight at him, but of course that was impossible. Still, he could not shake the sensation that behind her dark glasses, her eyes were cutting right through him, probing for secrets. “Do you think you’ll ever fall in love again?” she asked quietly.