~* Bad decisions make great stories *~
A Harry Styles dark romance that explores the intricacies of mental health, morality and sexual attraction. Enter a world of sin, opulence and crime.
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It started and ended with the wind.
She was a hurrican...
The Lord of Chaos: Book Six of The Wheel of Time; Chapter 44 by Robert Jordan.
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"I...I know how to use a gun"
Fuckshitfuckshitfuckfuckfuck.
I experience a dizzying range of emotions in a staggeringly short few seconds. Panic rises and seals my throat as I struggle to think of something to say that will explain how on earth I would know how to use a gun. Maybe if we were somewhere like America it wouldn't be so out of place - but Australian gun laws and regulations mean that firearms are so uncommon that my admission lights a neon sign above my head.
Four equally shocked faces stare at me from around the fire pit. The silence is deafening - the air crackles with the tension of all their unasked questions. Matt mutters a quiet curse to himself and Eli has pinned me with such an intense expression that I can't make myself meet his eyes.
Logan speaks first in an attempt to break the awkward silence. "Well aren't you just a whole lot of surprises packed into a teeny tiny package." He brings his thumb and forefinger together to demonstrate as he speaks. He sounds both surprised and unexpectedly impressed and I can't help but feel a small glimmer of pride. Anxiety quickly overwhelmes it though when Harry speaks. His voice is deep which accentuates his British accent.
"How and when did you learn to use a gun?" His tone is strangely neutral and I can't get a read on him. One of the few useful things my father did for me was teach me basic self defense as I aged into my mid teens. I honestly believe his motives were purely selfish - being the daughter of a high ranked drug dealer comes with a very specific set of dangers - and he was driven by the need to protect himself more than me. I don't believe my father would care if I died. But if someone had the audacity to take his 'property' he would be furious.
As a result I know some basic defensive moves - little good it would likely do me - and I am, was, a decent shot. I haven't practiced in years though - not since I moved in with Evan.
In my race to come up with a convincing lie I latch onto the idea of Evan and blurt out the first thing that sounds plausible. "Evan taught me." I hate how disingenuous I sound and, if Harry's expression is anything to go by, I know I haven't succeeded in fooling anyone.
"Is that right?" His deep, accented voice and piercing gaze sent a series of uninvited shivers down my spine.
"O-ook well that's good to know I guess, maybe we could do some target practice sometime?" Matt pipes up, shifting everyone's attention. I could hug him in this moment - ok well maybe not actually hug him, but the fact I think it at all is comfort enough.
