Page 7 of Reaper

Miracle: Who we digging a hole for?

I huff before smiling, but that’s Miracle for you. She’s fiercely protective of everyone she considers in her inner circle and always has your back. Exhaling heavily, I type their names.

Lark: Kelly and Aiden

Miracle: ...

Miracle: …

Miracle: No…

Miracle: No no no...

Miracle: Please don’t say what happened is what I think happened...

Lark: Yup

Lark: Came home from my shift and caught Aiden bare assed as he was fucking Kelly ON MY FUCKING BED!

Miracle: That fucking cunt!

Miracle: I can’t believe that two-faced bitch did that to you! We’ve all been friends since she moved to town in second grade. WTF?! And Aiden? He just proposed to you!

Miracle: Please say you pulled Ol’ Faithful on them?

I chuckle again despite being near tears, because like me, Miracle has her own sawed-off double-barrel shotgun. It was a gift to her from Pappy years ago when she said she was staying in Madison after graduating college. She keeps it handy at work, with her boss’ approval of course. Hell, she’s even pulled it on some patrons a couple of times at the bar when their fights got really out of hand.

Pappy had also given each of us a Sig Sauer P365. He said that since both of us were going to be working late at night, especially Miracle due to her bartending hours, he wanted us to both be safe.

Miracle’s dad, Rob, and Pappy taught her how to shoot when she turned sixteen. I’d been hunting since I was twelve, so Ialready knew how to shoot, but I still went to the gun range with them. I knew Miracle was nervous but determined to learn.

Rob is also a bartender and a month before Miracle’s sixteenth birthday, a brawl broke out in the bar that he works at. The brawl got so bad that he had to pull a gun to defend himself. While he was hurt, I still think he wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t had a weapon on him. Miracle knew she wanted to be a bartender like her dad, and someday either run or own her own bar, so she was determined to learn how to defend herself. Then, when we turned twenty-one, we each got our concealed carry licenses. Pappy’s presents came a year later.

Lark: Oh, I definitely pulled Ol’ Faithful on them

Lark: lol, you should have heard Kelly screaming at first

Miracle: I take it you all are gonna have a bonfire tomorrow?

Lark: Oh, yeah

Lark: Bedding, pillows—God I might even toss my bed and get a new one

Lark: Oh! And the towels

Miracle: Towels?

Lark: Yeah, after I kicked them out, I went into the bathroom only to discover they left a mess in theretoo. Wet towels laying on the ground in piles and on top of that, there’s fucking dried cum stuck to my fucking cabinets and floor.

When a string of angry, cursing emojis appears on the screen, I can just imagine Miracle pacing in the small break room they have at the bar. Actually, calling it a room is a bit of a stretch—it’s more of a glorified supply closet that has a couple of rickety folding chairs and a folding table in it.

Miracle: You have got to be fucking kidding me!

Lark: Oh, and there’s more

Miracle: ...

Miracle: No... ... ...