Part 42 (2/2)
”I... I... opened the...” she stammered.
”Glove compartment,” he supplied as he came around to her side of the vehicle and picked up the gun. Turning it over in his hand, he walked back to the driver's side and slipped it into the compartment in the door.
”Most handguns have a safety catch,” he said, as though he were one of her teachers back in school delivering a lesson. ”You have to push a lever before you can fire it. But the Glock is different. The safety is inside the trigger guard. So with your finger where it was, you could have killed me.”
She stared at him in shock. ”I...”
”You need to learn about guns,” he supplied. ”After we get home, I'll give you some shooting lessons.”
”I could have killed you,” she repeated, the enormity of it grabbing her by the throat and making it almost impossible for her to breathe. ”You should punish me,” she whispered.
”Of course not!”
”I should cut a switch so you can whip me.”
”Jesus! No.” He pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her. As he folded her close, moisture stung the backs of her eyes.
”I'm so sorry.” She struggled to hold her tears back, but they leaked out of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
When Logan felt her shoulders shaking, he rubbed his fingers across her back.
”First I almost killed myself with the electricity. Then I almost killed you with the gun.”
”But you didn't. It's okay. Everything's okay.”
She fought the tears. ”No. I keep messing up.”
”No, you don't. Or... not any more than I did in your world. When everything's totally unfamiliar, it's hard to know how to react. I'm the one at fault. I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have left the gun where you could grab it.”
He kept stroking her back and running his fingers through her hair, and finally she got control of herself. She felt him fumbling in the pocket of his door. When she lifted her head, he handed her a small rectangle that felt like flimsy cotton.
”What's that?”
”A tissue. To wipe your eyes and blow your nose.”
She did, and he took the crumpled thing and put it in a small bag that was also in his door.
”I suppose a child here would know what that was,” she murmured.
”Actually, sometimes they play with guns or show them off, and they kill another child by accident.”
”You should get rid of the guns!”
”A lot of people want to. But there are more people who want to defend themselves. Or they argue that even if guns are against the law, criminals will still have them.”
”Who's right?”
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