MY HUSBAND IS A GANGSTER

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Gun Shy
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"No. No way. No how. I'm not touching that."

Neil sighed, holding the sleek, black handgun out towards me. "Rachel, just take it."

"I said no. Absolutely not." I crossed my arms over my chest, standing firm in my refusal.

He looked at me with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I just want to show you how to use it. Now, take it." He tossed the gun into my hands, and I immediately threw it back like it was a hot potato.

"Ugh!" I yelped, wiping my hands on my pants. "I'm not touching that. I'm unauthorized to carry a firearm."

Neil burst out laughing. "Ever the outstanding citizen, huh? You do realize you're married to a wanted criminal, right?"

"Yes, I am very aware," I replied, rolling my eyes. "But that doesn't mean I have to break the law too."

He shook his head, chuckling as he stepped closer. His eyes softened as he brought his voice to a gentle whisper, his breath warm against my cheek. "I'd feel much better knowing you had this, then leaving you defenseless."

My heart skipped a beat, but I still glared at the gun. "I don't want to shoot anyone, Neil."

He placed the gun gently on the table between us and took my hands in his. "I'm not asking you to. But I want you to be able to protect yourself if the need ever arises. Just knowing how to use it could save your life."

I stared at the gun, then back at Neil, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Fine. But only because you're insisting."

"Thank you," he said, his lips curving into a playful smile. "Now, let's get started."

Neil picked up the gun, his movements slow and deliberate. He showed me how to hold it properly, how to aim, and the importance of always keeping the safety on until it was absolutely necessary to use it. I followed his instructions, my hands trembling slightly as I mimicked his grip.

"Relax," he said, his voice soothing. "You're doing great."

I took a deep breath and steadied my hands. "Okay. What's next?"

"Now, aim at the target," Neil instructed, pointing to a makeshift bullseye he had set up on the other side of the room.

I raised the gun, squinting as I tried to focus on the target. "Like this?"

"Perfect," he said, his hands gently adjusting my stance. "Now, squeeze the trigger slowly."

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the trigger. "I'm really not sure about this."

"You've got this," Neil encouraged, his hands still on mine. "Just trust yourself."

I took another deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The gun went off with a loud bang, and I jumped, nearly dropping it. The bullet missed the target by a mile, but Neil smiled proudly.

"See? Not so bad," he said, taking the gun from my hands.

"I guess," I muttered, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through me.