Ultimatum

Chapter Two

Sometimes I wonder if my life will ever be normal. I know I shouldn't dwell on it, but it's a thought that keeps reappearing in my head. It never leaves me. I just wish, for one day, that I could be like a regular person. I would kill to get a normal, minimal wage job, have sleepovers with friends, go shopping, and have my only worry be what I'm going to wear to the next party. I wish my life could be like that. It would be simply, blissfully, perfect.

But instead of sleepovers and dashing parties, I get a gun shooting range. What joy and fun this brings to my day. Christian decided that it would be wise for us to hone our shooting skills. He found a shooting range just out of Forks. It's a little forgettable place called La Push, an indian reservation or something.

We got into Forks last night. It took a total of two days. Pretty cool, huh? Traveling from New York to Washington state in two days. It's moments like this I'm thankful for my ability to teleport.

I grasp the 9mm pistol that lays waiting for me on a wooden stand. Deftly moving my fingers around it, I eject the magazine and begin inserting the ammo. The click of the magazine going into the pistol is reassuring, something familiar in this unfamiliar place. I glance up at Christian, who stands five paces away from me, mirroring my actions. His bleach blonde locks become darker looking through my sunglasses. He catches my eye and smiles.

"When's the last time you shot?" He asks.

I scowl. What does he mean "shot"? As in shooting a human being, or practicing at a gun range?

I decide he meant the latter. "Um, I'd guess it's been about a month", I stammer. His question makes me nervous, and judging by that nasty smirk he knows how I feel.

"How much you wanna bet I'd hit the target before you could?" He's full out grinning now. Christian Swallow, acting playful…Who would have thought?

I grin back at him, fully confident in my own skills. "Hundred bucks!"

"You got it", he replies with a shrug, and swaggers over to me. We shake on it and he returns to his spot. Then we disengage the safety button simultaneously and begin shooting. Just like that.

His shots go wide. So do mine, and I place my feet farther apart, widening my stance. This gives me just the balance I need and I hit the target dead center.

Christian huffs and stops shooting. I grin at him and hold my hand out. "Pay up, loser!"

He hands it over and something behind me catches his attention. He puts his gun down, forgetting instantly all about "honing our skills". I decide to ignore whoever he sees behind me and focus more on shooting.

Christian shouts out a name over the rings of my shots, hastily walking around me. I stop shooting to reload the magazine and listen to his conversation.

He's talking to a woman. Interesting. I glance behind me subtly, pretending to check out the black motorcycle in the parking lot that brought me here this morning.

She's tall, tan, and definitely Native American. She has short black hair and toned legs and arms.

"…so good to see you", Christian murmurs to her excitedly.

I only catch snippets of the conversation.

"…did you get here?…Last night?….Great!"

"Can't wait!….see you soon…Elaine!"

I jump at my name. My cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping. Then I realize he's calling me over to talk to them and I breathe a sigh of relief. I walk over to them.

"Elaine, this is an old friend of mine. Leah this is my sister Elaine."

She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Pleasure to meet you," she murmurs, much more reserved than when she was chatting up my brother.

"Yeach, back at ya," I say, grasping her hand and giving it a quick shake before letting go. I really hate touching people. I subtly shy away from her, backing up a step or two.

There's a momentarily awkward silence before Christian breaks it. Of course, he's unaware of how peculiar the situation is. How come I never knew about this "old friend"?

"So… Leah just invited us over to her house for a get together tomorrow night, Lane-y. Sound okay to you?"

What can I say? Obviously I don't want to go. I would jump myself off the side of a mountain before going. I hate social events and I don't want to meet new people. What's the point?

He's corning me, and what else can I do but agree? "Yeah definitely!" I use my fake cheery voice.

"Great," Leah says. "Tomorrow night then. Seven sound okay?"

"Yep, perfect!" Christian exclaims.

She purses her lips. "Here, let me wright down the directions and my cell number, kay?"

I excuse myself from them, walking to the motorcycle. I grab the helmet, stuff my hair and head into it, and rev up the engine.

"See you later, Christian!" I shout across to him. He waves me away with a grin. What is he, love sick?

I wipe the steam from the mirror. My reflection becomes clear. Emerald green eyes stare back at me, piercing and huge. They're doe-like, big and round. A long, straight nose sits between those eyes, followed by full lips. Almost too full, I think, reaching up a finger and poking my bottom lip.

It's been a while since I really looked at myself in the mirror. Strange, huh? Who doesn't look at themselves? There's a light smattering of freckles that recently worked their way into my complexion. They're in small dashes across my nose and on my cheeks. My lips are salmon pink and chapped. Ugh.

Twisting my hair into a bun, I wrap the towel extra tight around my body. I walk into my room and plop on my bed. A manilla folder sits on it, and I begin digging through the contents of the folder.

My next target.

He's located in Seattle, not too far from here. Sixty-two years old. Has five kids, a divorced wife, and lives in a penthouse. About to retire. Spends his days at a country club and his nights at a strip club. Nasty. I grimace.

I don't bother with looking at his name.

I memorize his address, his habits, his picture. And I very carefully keep my mind blank.

"Elaine! It's time to go!"

Right. That stupid "get together". I look at my clock. Six-thirty. Christian sure is punctual.

I brush my hair, which sits two inches above my butt. It's dark when it's wet. More of a dirty blonde than my natural bleach blonde. I climb into jeans, a plain black shirt, and black converse.

"Elaine! We're going to be late!" Christian sounds more impatient now.

"Coming!" I shout, clambering down the stairs and out the door. I have to duck past his arm, which he uses to prop the front door open. He shuts it behind us.

I hand him his helmet and tuck my head into mine, making sure my hair is tightly wrapped and braided so the wind doesn't make a mess of me.

I climb behind Christian, tucking my hands around his waist. He revs the engine and with a lurch we are off.

Off to a "get together" with people I hardly know and don't want to know. Great.

Hopefully they have drinks. I'll need them.

End of chapter two