Shot Girl by J. A. Konrath

Author:J. A. Konrath [Konrath, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2019-05-18T22:00:00+00:00

“I don’t think there should be more gun control. I think there should be more education.”

SAM BROWNBACK

“Every gun sold should require a background check, period.”

GARY ACKERMAN

JACK

I wiped away tears, and put my left hand over my right one and squeezed to stop the shaking.

“I’m sorry, Jill,” Sowa Shadid said to me. “That’s terrible you had to go through that.”

When I found my voice again I said, “I’m glad I went through it, Sowa. If Herb and I weren’t there, dozens more may have died.”

She poked at her pizza. It no longer looked good to me.

“So that’s the answer?” she asked, her voice soft. “The only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know if there is an answer. But I can’t pretend this isn’t the world we live in.”

“The world we live in doesn’t offer solutions, Jill. All we get is hopes and prayers. And those aren’t enough.”

I had no answer for that.

I had no answers for anything.

I just wanted to be able to walk again.

Sowa didn’t want to discuss guns anymore, and neither did I. She took out her cell phone, showed me pictures of her niece. I took out mine, showed her pictures of Sam. We exchanged compliments on how adorable the children were, and I scanned the room for threats.

Thunder rumbled outside.

Hurricane Harry announcing himself.

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone?” Sowa asked.

I was tempted to say no. I had too many friends I didn’t keep in touch with. I didn’t want to make more. Bonding with Sowa over stories of tragedy and pics of kids didn’t make us BFFs.

Shit, now I was doing pluralspeak.

But, for whatever stupid reason I do things, I nodded at her.

“My husband. Kahlil. He owned a gun. He bought it after we got married. He insisted. ‘To protect our home’, he told me. I hated it. He wanted to teach me to shoot, but I was afraid to even touch it.”

I didn’t answer. I had an idea where she was going with this, and I didn’t have any answers.

“Jill, I keep thinking about that day…”

Here’s proof I was no good at this relationship BS. I didn’t want to stay and comfort her. All I wanted to do was run away.

“That day at the mosque… if Khalid had brought his gun…”

“Don’t torture yourself like that, Sowa. I’ve played the if only game. It doesn’t lead anywhere good.”

“He had a concealed carry permit, Jill…”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to hear anymore.

“I was the one who told him not to bring the gun to masjid. I told him weapons of death have no place in a house of worship.”

This was my punishment for trying to win the debate. I just convinced a dear old lady to blame herself for the deaths of her loved ones.

I’m such an asshole.

“It’s not your fault,” I heard myself say, knowing full well that I would completely blame myself in her situation. “Even if your husband had been armed, there’s no guarantee it would have ended differently.

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