Be Gay Do Crime

Finalizing the purchase ended up taking nearly twenty minutes, but Ashe was now the proud owner of a Tavor TAR-21.  Even better, as they exited the shop, she caught sight of the man they came there looking for.  He wasn’t even looking, seemingly half asleep as he grabbed something from his truck, a half empty bottle falling from the floorboard, which he didn’t even bother to pick up before slamming the door. 

He looked like an absolute mess compared to the last time she saw him.  Back then, Jack Henson looked proud and defiant when officer Kendall tore his ski-mask off.  Now, his eyes were sunken, his skin borderline jaundiced and his hair was an untamed mess.  For all that he haunted her nightmares, she wasn’t looking at the man she had come to fear.

No, he looked pitiful at best. 

Ashe discreetly snapped a picture of Jack, as well as his vehicle using her burner phone and sent it to Crystal’s just to be safe.  She was tempted to pay him a visit later, scare the piss out of him, then return the favor by fucking up one of his limbs permanently, but that would just be stooping to his level.  Even if she was delving into criminal acts to see justice done, she didn’t want to degrade herself with petty revenge.

She buried those feelings deep down as she watched him walk into the shop.  Ashe had to wonder if it was another laundering business for the Iron Patriots, but without proof there wasn’t much point to hitting the place unless she wanted to kill him and make it look like a robbery gone wrong.  That wasn’t an option she wanted to take, but it did give her something to pass along to be investigated.

“You alright?” Crystal asked. 

Looking back at the shop for a moment, Ashe adjusted the strap of her backpack before squaring her shoulders.  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.  Just didn’t expect him to look so…” 

“Pathetic?” 

Ashe nodded, letting out a shaky breath.  “You always think of the people that manage to hurt you as these strong, monolithic individuals to justify how they could manage it.  It’s a psychological defense of some kind, or that’s how one of my shitty therapists described it once.” 

“You’re upset because he didn’t seem strong,” Crystal said. 

Ashe stepped over to the fallen bottle and kicked it, the liquid sloshing over her shoe.  It stunk of stale beer.  “He looked fucked up.  Like he was strung out and drunk off his ass.” 

“He didn’t look like the sort of man that could do what you know he did,” Crystal added softly. 

Something about that didn’t sit right with her, and it took her a moment to realize what it was.  She took a breath, walking back towards Crystal’s bike before someone thought she was up to something with his truck.  Last thing they needed was for him to realize that she hadn’t picked the pawn shop at random.  Currently, she could easily spin it as having heard they had that specific gun from someone as their reason for going so far out of the way to that shop. 

“No, he looked like someone who was taking it harder than I am,” she said instead, staring at her right hand as it clenched.  “I was crippled, despite fighting back, I am lesser after everything played out.  I didn’t let that keep me down, I’ve taken steps to ensure I’d never feel that helpless again.  I’m working past my weakness.”

“And he isn’t,” Crystal said, a smile growing.  “You’re strong, and despite how much I’ve told you that, you never really believed it before.  I take it that’s changed?” 

Ashe smiled, looking skyward.  “I won’t say I’m strong.  I don’t feel strong.”  Her gaze dropped, eyes locking on Crystal’s emerald orbs.  “But I’m stronger than those cowardly fucks that tried to take everything from me, and you know what?  I think that’s enough.” 

Crystal pulled her into a hug and Ashe let herself relax into it.  The realization was freeing, and she could feel the sting of tears forming in the corners of her eyes.  Whatever else came of it, she wasn’t shackled to what those men had tried to do to her.  She was moving forward, and she’d be damned if she let anyone try to do something like that to her again.

“Fucking dykes,” someone yelled. 

Ashe and Crystal both looked at the truck stopped at the nearby light, it was painted in the Confederate flag and had two Iron Patriot flags flying from the back.  It was almost comical how stereotypical it was as was the overweight man that was hanging out the window. 

Both girls flipped the truck off.

“You think you can get away with that?” the man yelled as he reached down and grabbed himself.  “I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man.” 

Ashe and Crystal shared a knowing look, then both drew their handguns.  The man blinked, then his buddy floored it, running the red light in the process and nearly got t-boned by an eighteen wheeler. 

The pair blinked before Ashe snorted and holstered her gun, Crystal was shaking her head as she walked back over to her motorcycle and Ashe followed, laughing as they did at the absurdity of it all. 

 

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Her instructors had been ecstatic to see the purchase, and after they checked it out, gave a list of suggested accessories and some maintenance advice.  That didn’t keep them from kicking her ass across the mat for the following two hours, but it did make for a fun afternoon when they remembered yet another story, or showed some technique that could be used with the gun in hand.  Overall, it ended up making for a good day and Ashe was happy, right up until she entered the front door of her apartment. 

“Is that a rifle?” her mother asked before Ashe even had time to shut the door behind her. 

Ashe shifted uncomfortably as she secured the deadbolt and turned to face her parents.  They were both standing side by side with arms crossed and an accusatory glare on their faces.  “Uh, yeah.  I bought it this afternoon on the recommendation of my Krav Maga instructor.” 

“I know you have some savings, but to afford—” her mother took a closer look at the gun and her frown deepened.  “That’s not an AR.  Ashe, how much did that cost?” 

“It was used and I already had someone check it out,” she defended.  Ashe set her backpack down and pulled the rifle completely free.  “It’s on my short list of guns I want to own and I wasn’t going to get it until Crystal insisted.” 

“How did she insist?” her mom asked, tone frosty. 

“By paying half the price,” Ashe muttered.  It wasn’t technically true, as she would just take the money from her stash at the apartment, but it was a good cover for how she paid for it.  “She didn’t want me to leave disappointed.” 

“You’ve bought me a gun for worse reasons,” Mother said, glancing at her wife. 

Mom huffed, waving a hand as she did.  “Sure you have, Cat, but we were also engaged at the time.  This is a bit different.” 

“She was spending her father’s money,” Ashe cut in.  That was the agreed upon excuse should any spending come up.  It wasn’t too much of a stretch to believe she had a trust that was refilled periodically that she tried to empty.  “Once she dropped that on me, I couldn’t really say no.” 

“How did you even buy it?” Mom asked.  She was starting to get expressive with her hands, gesturing almost akin to signing as she spoke.  “I thought that someone had to be eighteen with a three day hold on long rifle purchases.”

Her mother shook her head.  “She has a Concealed Carry, that bypasses the restrictions.” 

“Even when she’s under age?” 

“Apparently,” Mother said.  “I’ll bring that up with the department, make sure everyone is aware of that oversight.  Half the department is going to need to keep an eye on their own kid’s spending once this gets around.” 

“Everyone’s gonna laugh at us for this,” Mom grumbled.  “Ashe, you’re grounded for the weekend.” 

Ashe’s stomach dropped, because she had so much she needed to do.  More importantly, Crystal was making arrangements for potential jobs and she didn’t want to miss out.  Running with that idea, she decided to take a chance.  “I thought you wanted to meet Crystal?” 

Once again her parents glanced at one another, a wordless conversation passing between them.  Ashe felt a pang of jealousy over it, because of how well they knew one another.  She hoped that one day she would have that with someone, and she was starting to think it might just be with Crystal. 

“You get one chance to convince us,” her mother said. Crossing her arms again.  “Choose your words wisely.” 

Her mom rolled her eyes at the dramatics, but didn’t challenge her on the statement.  Ashe took a breath and thought it over.  Crystal had said she wanted to do it, so why not make the suggestion? 

“She thought with me having my own rifle, we could all go shooting together.  Make an event of it so you could get to know her better given how much time we’ve been spending together.” 

“Better reasoning than I thought we’d get,” Mother admitted, leaning over but not whispering.  “What do you think, love?” 

“I think she’s suckering us here,” Mom said, raising an eyebrow before she sighed and pinched her nose.  “Worst part is, it’s working.” 

Ashe tried not to grin, she really did.  “Does this mean—” 

“Still grounded, young lady,” Mom said with a tone that brokered no argument.  “We will however entertain the idea of going shooting with Crystal, then lunch or dinner after.” 

“I suggest you accept,” Mother said.  “I don’t think she’s going to give you a better deal.” 

They were playing good cop, bad cop with her, which was amusing with how it was usually the other way around.  Ashe’s mom almost never played bad cop when it came to her, but Mother was the gun nut among them, and she must have anticipated her wife going soft over the excuse to play with some new iron. 

“Alright, I’ll take it,” Ashe said.  “I guess I’ll need a ride to my lessons then.  They’ve been paid through the month to get me up to speed with the rest of the advanced class.” 

“Don’t push your luck,” Mom said.  “We’ll see about it.  Meeting these mysterious instructors is probably a good idea regardless.” 

“We’re just worried,” Mother cut in.  “Ever since the attack you’ve gotten a bit distant, and I get it, you want to feel independent and are looking for things that help you feel like you aren’t powerless.  That’s why we haven’t pressed the issue and allowed you greater freedom despite our concerns, but I’m worried you might get sucked into something unsavory if you keep going out unsupervised.” 

Ashe blinked in surprise and began to worry that they had found out about her activities, but her mom picked up the conversation before she could offer a rebuttal.  

“It’s easy to get caught up in the moment.  You’re taking classes, and making purchases that help you feel empowered.  You’re also digging into what happened to you and others.  This also draws attention.  Gangs watch these places, it’s how they recruit, or worse, decide to silence someone.  I just want you to know that if they try to pressure you, you can come to us, no judgment, and we’ll do what we can to get you out of the situation.” 

They didn’t know, otherwise the conversation would be going in a drastically different direction, and likely far more charged for it.  Even with the relief that brought, the guilt returned anew.  She was keeping so much from her parents, and they truly cared about her.  Yet, she couldn’t trust the law to see things through, not in Jericho. 

It pained her, but she was the only one that was willing to dig into whatever group was trafficking young girls.  Telling her parents about that was out of the question, which meant more lies needed to be told to the two people that had put everything on the line to support her. 

Well, everything but moving to a safer state, that was. 

For as bad as things were in the city, neither woman had seriously humored her when Ashe suggested moving north for safety.  Their careers were too established, neither wanted to give that up, and the decision was out of her hands.  It was part of why she was working so hard to get a scholarship to a school in Minnesota, it would be safer for her. 

Now, those plans seemed to be in question.  If Ashe got wrapped up in the local scene, would she still want to leave when the time came?  Could she justify taking a year off while pretending to work a job somewhere while she finished up any loose ends?  She didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t know for sure until the time came.  Until then, she just needed to keep up appearances. 

She moved forward and hugged both her parents.  She might never plan on taking them up on their offer, but it was still nice to hear.  “Thank you, for everything.” 

“No need to thank us,” her mom said, resting her head on Ashe’s crown.  “We’re your parents.  We would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” 

Ashe let the hollow words wash over her, the pang of betrayal it sent through her was pushed aside.  Knowing there was more that could be done, but wasn’t, hurt.  That she was having to do it herself hurt more, but Ashe would see things through. 

“I’m going to go store my rifle in the safe, then catch a shower,” Ashe said, pulling away.  “I’ll give Crystal a text after dinner to see if she’s free Saturday afternoon.” 

“Tell her we’ll be disappointed if she isn’t,” Mother said.  “Also, rub in that we’re having spaghetti and garlic bread, see if you can make her a bit jealous.” 

Ashe laughed, moving towards the hall.  “I don’t know if that will work, but I’ll try.” 

She dropped the gun off in the office and quickly messaged Crystal before hopping in the shower.  Ashe grimaced at how many bruises covered her, many of them fresh.  The training was relentless, but the results would be worth it.  She was being drilled like a recruit would be, and they wanted to ensure she was proficient enough to teach the class by the time she was done. 

That might have been excessive, but she wasn’t going to complain, at least not aloud or to their faces.  Kyle and Eric were brutal task masters, and worse, they were nice as fuck to their friends.  That they had already accepted her as a friend after less than a week, it was nice to feel welcome with others. 

If all gangs recruited in a similar way, with genuine human interactions, friendly smiles and a sense of belonging, it was a wonder they weren’t more common, or a bigger threat.  Hopping out of the shower, Ashe checked her phone and had to hold in a groan.  Crystal sent a picture of her own meal, a fucking giant ass steak with loaded mashed potatoes and fresh greens. 

“You win this one,” Ashe muttered as she made her way to the kitchen to get her own dinner.  “Crystal showed you up.” 

Her parents looked up, then frowned at the picture visible on her phone. 

“That bitch,” her mom hissed. 

There was a beat of silence, then all three of them were laughing.  Despite not getting steak, that didn’t stop their own meal from being pretty damn good regardless, even if it did have them swearing eternal revenge.

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