Range Cold

Jason seems a little bit unsure. After all, I was just crying like a baby only seconds ago, and now I'm acting fine. Nevertheless, he nods and shrugs. "Alright. I'll be right back. RANGE COLD!"

"VERY COLD!" Faye and I say together, and we laugh. The joke isn't funny anymore, but I feel like my laughter is convincing enough. I can be deceptive too, even if I can't match their bottomless pool of talent.

As my husband begins walking to deal with the targets, I begin reloading my magazine. "So Faye, I don't mean to pry, but how is your love life going? Any cute guys on the horizon? If you don't mind me asking, of course!"

Out of my periphery, I can see her eyeing me suspiciously. She's good, but I think Jason is the better deceiver. I've already done my crying for the day, so my face is neutral and passive as I load in the bullets one by one. It's an enjoyable experience, honestly. Like a fidget toy, except deadly.

Finally, my placid face must convince her, because she leans back on the bench and speaks; her voice is devoid of suspicion. "Not really. I've been scoping out dating websites... nothing worthwhile."

"Yeah, it can be hard to find a good, honest man. I got so lucky with Jason."

"That you did!" She is watching me again, but I think she's wearing a prideful smirk now. It's hard to tell. I keep my eyes on the cartridges as they enter the magazine. "I think that man is honest to a fault!" Of course she would want to reassure me that Jason is trustworthy. It's a necessary part of her game... although what her ultimate goal is I have no idea.

"I won't fault him too hard," I reply, as I slap the magazine into place. The rifle is on safety, but I wrap my fingers around the grip and chamber a round. Technically, you aren't supposed to chamber new ammo when the range is cold, but if Faye notices, she doesn't say anything. With the gun resting comfortably on my thighs, I begin pulling 30-06 cartridges from my pocket and loading them into the clip for the Garand.

I set the gun in my lap and look off into the distance. "Faye, how long have we been friends?"

Faye also seems as if she is distracted. "Umm... like 18 years or more? It's been a long time."

"It really has been. You've always been a shoulder to cry on."

"I'm here for you, sister!" I think she's watching Jason now; he's having some trouble with the staple gun.

I place the last round into the clip, and I hand it out to her. "Here, put this in Jason's rifle, please."

She looks at me, uncertainly. "I... I don't know if Jason would be okay with me handling his weapon."

Handling his weapon? I almost point the carbine at her that instant, but somehow I restrain myself. "Faye, just do it. It isn't a big deal. Just make sure that it's on safety. I don't want anyone accidentally getting shot. I'm sure Jason will be fine with you handling his weapon." My voice contains no humor or malice. I have no idea how I manage that.

Incredibly hesitantly, she takes the clip from my hand. She is watching my face, perhaps suspicious again. This time, I look her dead in the eye. "Go ahead, Faye. While we're young." This time I smile, but there is hatred dripping from my expression.

She places the clip in the magazine, and pushes down forcefully. Without warning, the action slams forward, attempting to force her finger into the breach. She screams, and I jump up to help her.

"Oh my God! Faye! Are you alright!?" I coat my words with concern, and I feel as if no actress in the world could have done better. I rush over to her side, but I sling the rifle over my shoulder first. Tears are welling up in her eyes, and I don't blame her. I know that fucking hurt.

Loading a clip into a Garand can be a bit dangerous, if you don't know what you're doing. I guess during all the time that they spent alone together, proper M1 loading procedures didn't come up. What a shame. Jason taught me years ago, when we were going through the tedious process of disassembling and cleaning our firearms. Faye was never there for that part... just the fun stuff. I guess she shouldn't have been "handling Jason's weapon" after all.

My husband suddenly appears at her side; he must have sprinted the rest of the way back. His voice sounds just as concerned as mine did, except, of course he isn't faking it.

Now it is Faye's turn to wail like a petulant child. "Lizzie told me to load the magazine into the..."

"Load the clip... into the magazine..." I correct, and then frown with mock embarrassment. "I'm sorry! I didn't know that would happen!" I should kill that bitch for calling me Lizzie. I'd say that only Jason was allowed to call me that, but at the moment, I just don't wanna hear it from anyone.

"That's called Garand thumb." Jason mansplains, as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the wound. It's ultimately superficial, but he is infinitely doting. I bet he doesn't want her to injure her good cock-stroking hand. My fingers find the butt of the carbine, but I leave it resting on my back.

"Is it okay?" I ask. "Do we need to go to a hospital?" Of course, I already know the answer. Unless it broke her finger - which I suppose is possible, although unlikely - I think she'll be fine.

She's barely containing her own sobs, and yet somehow, Jason hasn't decided to scold her like he did me. Of course, getting your thumb smashed by the action of a rifle is a better reason to cry than missing a target... but having your husband of 13 years sleeping around on you with your best friend? I imagine the jury is still out on that one.

"Do we need to go home, Faye? We can, if you need...?"

She slows her ragged sobs into something manageable. If she says that we have to go home, I'll probably just kill them both right now. It isn't what I want, but I can't say I exactly hate the idea either.

"I- I- I think I'll be fine. There are band aids in the truck, right?"

I nod. "When you grab them, can you also grab the steel ringer target? I have to ask Jason something in private." I see that Jason is about to object to me giving our little wounded-warrior tasks... but the look on my face gives him pause.

Faye suddenly looks less hurt and more concerned, but what can she do? A woman is entitled to have secrets with her husband, of course. Even if her husband has been keeping his own secrets from her with a disgusting, home-wrecking slut.

"Yeah... Faye. Uhhh... grab the band aids." There is worry in his voice, but he tries to look confident, as Faye walks to the truck.

"And the steel ringer target too, please Faye?" I think the ice in my voice worries them both. The gun is still hanging from my shoulder, but my eyes are even and unbothered. Certainly they don't show any of the fury that is slowly beginning to replace my sorrow.

"What... what do you want, baby?" Jason asks, hiding the trepidation in his voice almost perfectly.

I step in close. "I'm sorry about Faye's thumb. That was an accident." The lie slips so easily from my lips that it shocks even me. "But I wanted to talk about something different. Before she got hurt, I was just thinking to myself... I don't think you can hit bullseye 7 more times at the 150 mark, and then hit the ringer at 200."

Jason tilts his head to the side, clearly confused. That is not the direction he was expecting the conversation to go. "Honey, you know I can do that. You saw how I obliterated the center at 100 yards. These targets aren't even that small. Look, as much as I wanna show off, I really think we should cut this trip short. Faye is hurt and..."

"If you can do it, I'll suck your cock tonight. All the way." There is a devious gleam in my eye that my husband latches onto immediately.

"Is your goal to give me something easy to do, just so you can suck me off?"

"There's only one way to find out!" All of my vitriol and fury are being channeled into sexual frenzy, and I swear I can see a bulge in his pants. It's been a long time since I've swallowed for him, although it's also been a long time since he's asked. He has someone else for that, I suppose.

"You've got it, sexy!" He grins with lascivious delight, and I swear I almost puke. "When did you get so nasty all the sudden?" He chambers a fresh round - which loads considerably easier than Faye's thumb did - and he takes aim.

"Range hot!" I shout, instinctually. There are seven deafening reports, and then the gun goes silent. He flips the safety on.

I step over and glance through the scope. He hit dead center on six of the rounds. The seventh is a little high. It's technically a miss, but I'm not going to complain. I pull out my phone and start filming him. "What do you have to say for yourself, Mr Crack-shot? That was some damn fine shooting!"

"I never miss!" He beams, and I grin back at him, placing the phone in my jacket's front pocket. As with most of my jackets, the front pocket is too shallow, and the phone sticks almost halfway out.

Faye steps back up with the steel target. There is concern on her face, but it fades instantly, when she sees Jason's elation. I wonder how she would feel if she knew why he was excited. I guess it probably wouldn't bother her. She knows who he is... even better than I do, I imagine.

"Faye, will you go put the target out at 200 yards, please?" My voice is just as dead as I feel.

"Wha... Hey I'm hurt here, and I don't feel like walking..."

""Faye! Please just do as you're asked!" There is a sharpness in Jason's words that clearly surprises both of us, but then his voice softens. "I mean. If you don't mind... I'd really appreciate it."

Faye looks none too happy, but she slowly does as requested. "Range Cold." She mutters in annoyance.

"Very cold!" Jason grins, infinitely pleased with himself. Such a big man, my husband. Able to effortlessly bend all of the women in his life to his will.

The sound of Faye's footsteps slowly recedes, and I take a seat across from Jason. As I sit, I pull the rifle from my back, and point the barrel directly at my husband's head. There is an incredibly subtle click as I take the weapon off safety. It takes him a few moments to notice... I think he was watching Faye's ass. Understandable, I guess. It's a nice ass.

"Wha... WHOA!!! Lizzie! That's not...!"

"Keep your voice down, you adulterous piece of shit, or I swear to God, I'll paint this whole area with your brains."

Jason's eyes shoot wide open, even wider than when he saw the gun pointed at his face. "Wha... I... Hey...!"

"Tell me one lie, cocksucker... and I'll blow your head off for that too! The number one rule of firearms is to have fun, and if you give me a single, solitary reason, I'm gonna have a blast!"

I can see the gears turning in the snake pit that he calls his mind. Such wicked thoughts, all spiraling to help him come up with a way to defuse this situation. Unfortunately, there's only one way out of this for him. It's my way... and he isn't going to like it.

Good. He isn't supposed to.

"Lizzie, listen..."

"No, YOU shut the fuck up, and YOU listen! I've known for a while now, and I've bided my time. But now, I have you exactly where I want you. I want you to answer my questions. If you say a single word that I don't wanna hear, or if you shout to your fucking whore down there, you're dead. Also, reach for that rifle if you wanna die. Right now, I'm fine with whatever. Nod if you understand, or I can always just shoot you immediately."

I see realization dawn on him. Not only do I know that he's a cheater, I know it's with Faye. Reality is slowly starting to sink in. He nods.

My tough-girl attitude is slowly running out of steam, but my hurt and fury could not be higher. Part of me insists that I should pull the trigger this instant, but I resist that urge. I feel like I might start crying again... but I resist that too.

"We've been married for 13 years, Jason. Thirteen fucking years! Never once, in that entire time, did I ever look at another man! I know I wasn't perfect! But I fucking tried! I fucking cared! I was there for you through thick and thin and-"

"Wait a minute...!" Jason begins, but stops immediately when I level the gun with his nose. He places his hands in front of his face and squints his eyes. The reaction is automatic, but also kind of humorous. His fingers won't stop a .30 cal round. A quick glance shows me that Faye is still walking. She hasn't heard anything. Perfect.

I remove the barrel from his face, merely pointing it at his chest now. He relaxes, but only slightly.

"This isn't the part where we list off mutual flaws, Jason. If you think I'm pretending that I was a perfect wife, then you're deaf and stupid, on top of being an adulterous sleaze. But you wanna know the crazy part? As much as I want to hate you, I'm even more furious at Faye! Did she try to lure you away from me? Why you? Answer me! Why us?"

"She's a slut!" Jason exclaims, immediately throwing his second lover under the metaphorical bus. "She came on to me first, and I resisted her for the longest time until..."

I level the gun again, and he shuts up involuntarily, his mouth hanging open. "That's what I figured," I say with a nod. "You're a weak-willed husband, but she's a villainous whore."

He clearly wants to nod, but he's trying to tell if I'm being sarcastic or not.

"Well, my problem is, I fell in love with a slimy, pathetic man!" I exclaim, as if exasperated. "I could kill you now and claim it was an accident. It'd be my word against... well against no one, I suppose. Faye could try to out me, but if she accused me of murder, she'd have to present a motive. I don't think she's willing to do that. After all, my only motive is the fact that you've cheated on me... with her. She'd have to admit to everyone that she's a slut, and I don't think she wants her family to find out about her indiscretions."

I can see sweat beading on Jason's face, even in this freezing cold weather. "Please... Lizz... I mean, Elizabeth..." He's speaking, even though I told him not to, but I simply listen. "Think of all the good times we've had together. If you kill me, all of that goes away and..."

Tears begin streaming from my face, and I squeeze the trigger just a tad. Not enough to fire... but the motion feels so cathartic. My vision is starting to blur, so I make sure the gun is pointed directly at his head. I only get one chance at this.

"Fuuuck... no! Wait! Liz! Eliz...! You DON'T wanna-"

"Shut up, Jason!" I hiss, disgust in my voice. "If I were to let you live, what would you do?"

He freezes. I think part of him never expected to get this far. "I... well.. I..."

"Would you stay with me?" The tears in my eyes are running down my cheeks; part of me feels so weak.

"Yes! If you wanted, I'd-"

"Would you ever look at another woman again?"

"NO! I'd never! I'd-"

"Good!" There is a bit of relief in my voice. "I wasn't sure we'd get this far, but we're here now. You know that I love you, right?" He nods, afraid to speak. "And you know that I've always loved you, right?" Again he nods. "And if I let you live, will you go on loving me forever?"

His body is trembling as he speaks. "Yes!! YES! Lizzie! I-" He begins to stand, but the gun rares in his face once again.

"So what I'm understanding is that Faye meant nothing to you, and this was all just a mistake that you'd be willing to make amends for, and never repeat?"

I can see the relief washing over his face. If I'm talking about making amends, then he's basically scot-free. "She was a mistake, Lizzie! I let my weakness get the better of me! I'm a weak man, and sorry, but you're the only woman I've ever loved."

I can feel my tear ducts drying up. I've heard all I need to hear. I carefully wipe the tears from my face and nod with approval. "Prove it." I say, and my voice is as cold as the surrounding snowy landscape.

His face is a mask of confusion. "Prove...?"

"Shoot that bitch out there."

His eyes grow even wider than before, as the truth of the situation sets in. "But..."

"You have one bullet, Jason. One shot to kill that slut down there. If you take it... then this will all just be a simple accident. You and I will be on the same page, and we'll both testify that it was a horrible tragedy." I make no attempt to hide the excitement in my voice. "You betrayed me, but I've known Faye for longer, so her treachery cuts deeper. I used to love her, as a friend, but I fell in love with you. As such, I can bring myself to forgive you, perhaps..." My eyes narrow. "But not her."

I can see the frosty steam of his breath flooding out faster as his breathing accelerates. I don't think I've ever seen him this scared before.

"If you refuse," I remind him, "Then I'll kill you, and it's right back to plan A for me. You die in a freak firearms mishap."

He lets out a gasp. He doesn't like plan A. Not one bit.

I sigh. "However... if you miss? Well then, I'll have no choice but to shoot you. That means I'll definitely go to jail, because there's no way that I could play that off as an accident, now could I? Your gun accidentally goes off, and then mine does? No one would believe that." I click my tongue, thoughtfully. "But... the way I figure it, if you miss, I'll shoot you in the cock first, and let you bleed and suffer for a couple minutes while I gun down Faye out there in the field. Then, if I'm feeling generous, I'll put you out of your misery."

In unison, my husband and I both turn to look for Faye. She's 200 yards out, trying to attach the ringer to the chain, and having a bit of difficulty because of her wounded hand. I chuckle aloud.

"Elizabeth! You can't do this! You-" He shuts up again when he sees my trigger finger beginning to flex. Damn, that feels so good. Just a little bit more pressure though, and it would probably feel so much better.

"You're right. I don't want to do this." I say, calmly. I think my cool words are scarier than screaming right now. "I want you to do this. If you love me, and if that bitch led you astray, then kill her, and prove yourself."

"I..." He is stammering now, completely pathetic. Why did I have to fall in love with such a shithead?

"You have until the count of 5 to take aim, Jason. 1... 2..." I don't make it to three, before he has already grabbed the gun, although he hasn't taken aim yet. I move carefully behind him, pointing my carbine at the back of his head. "Now you have until the count of 10 to take the shot. "I'm only giving you that long, because I don't want you to miss. And of course, if you wanna die quicker, you can always try to turn that gun on me."

The emotions on his face paint an incredibly brilliant picture. Fear, sadness, disgust... it reminds me of my own face when I learned about him and Faye.

"10..." I say, my voice entirely dead.

"Liz, please!"

"9..."

"This is...!"

"8...!"

"You can't...!"

"6!"

He gasps, terror filling his voice as I skip a digit.

"2...!" I'm getting impatient, myself.

I hear a horrible cry of fear as he places his cheek against the stock. No time passes, and there is a thunderous boom. It is followed by the accompanying *ping* as the en bloc clip ejects. My heart soars, but part of me is sickened too... I can't believe I did that. I can't believe he did that. Across the field, Faye drops face first into the snow. She is screaming, but with the earmuffs on it's hard to hear.

"She's wounded, Jason? I guess that's smart. A headshot would be more suspicious, I suppose, but now we have to wait for her to bleed out. Oh well." Jason is sobbing uncontrollably, and I pat him on the back. "There there, sweetheart! You'll never fuck that slut ever again, but at least I made an honest man out of you."