So the man sends me a text. We need to have a chat. Now, these words usually strike fear in a man when a woman says them or at the very least, he runs down the list of things he may have done wrong over the past day or two. Most women see or hear these words and they jump to “Oh no! He’s going to break up with me. I thought we were okay!”  Not a LEOW! These words usually mean something happened at work and it has the potential to affect our home life and family. Sure enough, he walks in at 3:30am, gives me a kiss, and gets to talking.

Where are the four main spots I told you to aim for on a person? He asks me.

Pelvis. Abdoman. Chest. Head. Fills the large cavities with blood. Start big and make my way up in a line. (I should probably note that I’m blind without my glasses. Like really blind. This is a “felt” practice for me.)

Why big parts first and not the head first? He asks while unloading my Critical Defense rounds and reloading Miranda, my .357 MAG, with training rounds.

Without being able to see small things, it’s easier to just raise the weapon around abdominal height and fire within the fuzzy outline

. Plus, I’ve only got 5 rounds in my snubnose. Better to hit center than to miss the head.

Good. He grabs the remainder of his variety of training rounds and two more of his weapons. Let’s go. 

I know what we’re going to do.  I know it’s serious for him or we wouldn’t be running scenarios at 4am. I know better than to ask a ton of questions. He’ll tell me later.

9 houses were hit today by kids. Consider them armed and dangerous. They’re not just in town, they’re hitting here too. It’s mostly during the day when they think people aren’t home, but you need to be prepared. 

He looks at me awaiting acknowledgement. Shoot to kill, I reply.

Shoot to kill. He says with a nod. Now, where will you stand if they come in the back door?

I run to my position. I don’t answer. I don’t walk. I raise my weapon. I explain at what point in time I begin to fire, my escape plan, my plans B, C, and D.  We go over where the other weapons are hidden and when and which to get depending on the safest route.

 

It’s now 6am. I’ve “killed” 77 intruders. He continuously tells me that these 14 year olds won’t hesitate to kill me and they’re just as capable as hurting me as a 25 year old armed man. As a mom with my oldest approaching pre teen years, he knows this needs to be drilled into my head. He knows I have to not recognize them as kids.  I ask what they’re going for. Guns. Crap. It’s bad enough when kids are stealing weapons but you KNOW they’ll be quick to brag about stealing one from a cop’s house.

7am. Weapons reloaded, strategically placed, double and triple checked. If I’m home, what do you do? I get the kids out and get back to you with the vest. I’m your ammo girl.

And you make one sexy ammo girl!  Mama bear looks good on you. I’ll tell you what you tell me. You’d better win.

Miranda is placed back next to me on my bedside table. My glasses get put away and the man drags me up to his side.

I love you, woman. 

I can tell.

This life isn’t for everyone. It’s not roses and foot massages and sappy words. It’s protection and comfort. This life is for me and I wouldn’t trade it, or him, for anything.

 

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