Nico
I walked to the handgun wall and picked a Glock 19. Simple. Reliable. Nothing fancy. I checked the magazine, cleared the chamber, and then handed it to her. Gianna hesitated before wrapping her fingers around it. And as expected, her grip was all wrong.
“Your stance is off,” I muttered. “Here.” I moved behind her and placed my hands over hers. My fingers closed over hers, adjusting the grip.
“You’re holding it too tight. Keep it firm, but don’t choke it. This isn’t a bat.”
I stepped in closer, guiding her arms up. “Feet shoulder width. Lean forward slightly. Elbows bent. Don’t lock them.”
Gianna exhaled deeply.
“Now sight down the barrel. Not at the ceiling. There. Align it with the target.” I let go but didn’t step back. She stayed focused.
“Now what?” Gianna asked quietly.
