Chapter 7 - THE LOADED REVOLVER
The storm passed just before dawn.
A thick, grey mist settled over the pine trees surrounding the cabin.
Inside, Adrian had dragged Frank into the storm cellar and padlocked the hatch.
The smell of black coffee filled the kitchen.
Adrian stood by the pine table, bare-chested, a clean white bandage taped across his shoulder.
He set a small velvet pouch on the table between us.
He opened it.
A snub-nosed .38 revolver lay on the polished wood, accompanied by six brass cartridges.
"Sit," Adrian said.
I sat down.
The heavy steel felt ice-cold against my fingertips.
"I’m not a killer, Adrian," I whispered.
"I don't need you to be a killer," he said softly, pulling a chair beside me.
"I need you to survive when the bullets start flying."
He picked up one of the cartridges.
"Load it."
My hands shook, but I took the bullet.
I slipped it into the cylinder.
Click.
I loaded the second, the third, until all six chambers were filled.
Adrian stood behind my chair.
He leaned down, placing his large, calloused hands over mine.
The heat of his chest pressed against my spine.
His breath brushed the sensitive skin beneath my ear.
My pulse jumped, fluttering wildly.
"Lift your arms," he commanded gently.
I raised the revolver toward the back wall.
"Don't fight the weight," he murmured.
"Let the steel become part of your hand."
His fingers adjusted my grip, sliding over mine with firm, electric warmth.
"Lock your wrist. Focus on the front sight."
"Adrian..." my voice was barely audible.
"Breathe out, Nora."
I exhaled.
"Squeeze the trigger smoothly. Don't jerk it."
I pulled.
The dry fire clicked sharply in the empty room.
"Again," he said.
We practiced until my arms burned and my movements became second nature.
When we stopped, Adrian remained close behind me.
Neither of us moved.
The silence between us was charged, thick with unspoken longing.
He reached around, his thumb tracing the side of my neck, tilting my head slightly back.
His dark eyes searched mine, intense and raw.
"If anything goes wrong today, you leave me," he said fiercely.
"No," I replied instantly.
"Nora—"
"You took a bullet for me last night," I said, turning in my chair to face him.
"My father died protecting you. I am not running away."
A dark, possessive spark flashed in his eyes.
He leaned down, his lips hovering an inch from mine.
"You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met."
"You wouldn't have looked twice at me if I weren't."
The corner of his mouth curved upward.
He leaned in, his lips brushing mine with searing heat.
The kiss was fierce, desperate, claiming every breath in my lungs.
When he pulled back, both of our chests were heaving.
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"Get dressed," Adrian said, his voice husky.
"We have a council meeting to crash."
