*Evelyn*
“When you pull the trigger, the force is going to cause some kick back. Keep a firm grip, but don’t lock up your muscles.”
Slater and I were on the back end of his property. He’d woken me up this morning with a gift— a tiny hand gun with his name engraved into the smooth metal. It was much smaller than his gun, much more compact— and when he told me he wanted to teach me how to shoot it, I was not a fan of the idea.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know how to defend myself— especially after the parade yesterday walking in to the doctor’s office. Something about them just seemed unstable in my hands, unsafe. I never feared guns when Slater was the one with it strapped to him. But me? I definitely didn’t feel qualified to even touch one.
Slater’s hands were on my waist as I ai
